The Kids Next Door Spent Every Sunday Cleaning Our Neighborhood – Then I Noticed What They Were Actually Doing

Every Sunday, the two children next door walked along our street carrying one black trash bag.

Everyone thought they were picking up litter.

Then one afternoon, I saw nine-year-old Ben crouch beneath the bushes outside my window and hide something in the dirt.

After he left, I went outside.

Under the leaves was a plastic bag containing a silver flash drive and a folded note.

My name was written on the front.

MRS. CARTER.

I opened it.

If our mom disappears, give this to the police.

Do not give it to Rick.

Do not tell him we left it here.

That was the moment I realized those children had never been cleaning our street.

They had been leaving evidence.