My Little Neighbor Didn’t Let Anyone Into His Home Until a Police Officer Arrived and Stepped Inside

He listened. Jotted notes. Didn’t interrupt.

When I finished, I twisted my hands in my lap.

“I know I’m just the old lady next door,” I said.

“But if something happens to that boy and I sat on my hands…”

“You’re not ‘just’ anything,” he said. “You’re someone who noticed. That matters.

I’ll stop by this afternoon. Would you like to be there?”

“Yes,” I said, without thinking.

“Alright then,” he said.

That afternoon, his cruiser pulled onto our street. He came to my door first.

“You ready?” he asked.

“Not even a little,” I said.

“But let’s go.”

We walked to Jack’s together.

Murray knocked. Firm, not aggressive.

After a moment, the door opened a crack.

I saw one eye, a slice of his face.

“Jack?” Murray said. “Hi.

I’m Officer Murray. Your neighbor was worried.”

Jack’s gaze jumped to me, then back.

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