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The Message
Jake was out of town for work. I ordered our usual—pepperoni with extra cheese. When Tom arrived, his demeanor was off. His hands trembled, and the usual smile was missing.
“Good evening, Emily. Jake’s gone tonight?” he asked.
It felt strange, but I brushed it off—until I opened the pizza box.
There, in bold black Sharpie, it read:
“He is not who you think. Check your doorcam.”
The Truth Revealed
My stomach turned. I dropped the pizza and rushed to the doorcam tablet. My fingers shook as I searched the footage.
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