Eventually, I told myself I was imagining things. For several weeks, nothing unusual happened.
Then one afternoon, my schedule changed and I came home several hours earlier than expected.
The moment I stepped into the backyard, I noticed Chase’s mower sitting in the middle of the grass.
The engine was still running. But Chase was gone. “Chase?” No response.
I walked around the side of the house. “Chase?” Still nothing. Then the door to my detached garage suddenly opened.
Chase rushed out. I stopped immediately. “What were you doing in there?”
For a second, his face froze. Then he answered quickly. “The door was open.
It’s really hot outside, so I just stepped in there for a minute to cool off.”
I stared at him. Something about that explanation didn’t sit right with me.
I had only owned the house for about a month, and I had never even used that garage.
More importantly, I always kept it locked. I knew I had not left that door open.
But I didn’t confront him. Chase finished mowing, took his payment, and left as though nothing had happened.
I tried to forget about it. I couldn’t. How had he gotten inside? And why was he interested in a garage I had never even used?
A few days later, I was shopping at a grocery store when someone several aisles away caught my eye.
I thought it was Chase. Then I looked again. For several seconds, I wasn’t sure.
The boy standing across the store looked completely different from the teenager who showed up at my house every week in faded shirts and worn-out sneakers.
