Gloria’s shoulders dropped, and she began to cry. She told us the truth in a shaky voice. After losing her job last year, she had started taking packages from porches and selling the contents online to cover her mortgage. The notebook tracked what each box earned. She had chosen me because I was old and, she assumed, too tired to check the cameras. The other neighbors had simply believed their deliveries were lost.

Jason had already recorded everything on his phone. He called the police, and two officers arrived within ten minutes. They photographed the shed, counted forty-two boxes, and took Gloria’s notebook as evidence. Gloria did not resist. She only asked whether she could have a moment to speak to me, and I agreed.

She apologized, though I could hear how hard it was for her. I told her that hardship was no excuse for stealing from people, especially an eighty-three-year-old woman who had once brought her soup when she moved in. Gloria cried harder and admitted she had been ashamed ever since. The officers led her away gently, and I stood in the cold yard feeling sad more than angry.

Within a week, our neighbors came to my porch to collect their belongings, and many of them thanked me with baked goods. Gloria pleaded guilty, paid restitution, and was given probation with community service. A few months later, she knocked on my door with a pie and a quiet apology, and I invited her in. She never took another thing. Now we have tea on Sundays, and my packages always sit safely on my porch until I bring them in.