He Was the Friendly Neighbour… Until The Camera Caught This (2 of 6)

Then I saw him.

A man. Bent over our laundry basket. Not my husband.

He held one of my blouses. Brought it to his nose. Paused.

I froze. I knew that face.

It was Marcus, the quiet neighbour who always waved, always offered to roll our bins back up the driveway.

I checked the timestamp—2:12 p.m. That was when I was chatting with Melissa out front. Dave was on grill duty. The laundry room? Empty.

Or so we thought.

I replayed it. Watched Marcus slowly place the blouse back, scan the yard, and vanish.

I felt sick.

That night, I told Dave. He thought I misread it. Until I showed him. He went stiff.