When we moved into our new house, we thought we’d found the perfect neighbors in the Johnsons.

But after returning from vacation to find our property trashed, I discovered a hidden note that would change everything and force us to question who we could really trust.

We moved into our new house a year ago, and everything seemed perfect.

The neighborhood was quiet, the house was beautiful, and we were excited to settle in.

Our neighbors, the Johnsons, seemed cool too. They welcomed us with a pie and friendly smiles. “Welcome to the neighborhood!” Jane beamed, holding out a steaming apple pie.

Her husband, Tom, stood behind her, grinning and waving. “Thanks so much,” I said, taking the pie. “I’m Emma, and this is my husband Mike.” Mike stepped forward, shaking their hands.

“Great to meet you both. We’re really looking forward to living here.” We chatted for a while, and they seemed nice enough. Their house was somewhat run-down, but that didn’t bother us.

Over the next few months, we got to know them better. We had barbecues, swam in our pool, and generally got along well. Three months later, I found a note from the previous owner tucked inside a kitchen drawer.

It read: “Beware of the Johnsons. They’ll make your life hell. Don’t put them too close.” I showed it to Mike that evening. “What do you think about this?” I asked, handing him the note.He read it and frowned. “Seems a bit

dramatic, don’t you think? They’ve been nothing but nice to us.” I nodded, but something nagged at me. “Yeah, you’re right. It’s probably nothing.” “Maybe the previous owner had a personal beef with them,” Mike suggested.

“People can be petty sometimes.” We decided to ignore it. After all, we’d been getting along great with Jane and Tom. Every weekend, we invited them over for pool parties and barbecues.

We exchanged recipes, borrowed books, and even asked for their advice about garden design. “Your tomatoes look amazing, Tom,” I complimented Tom one day when he came over to look at my fledgling vegetable patch. “Any tips?” I asked. Tom puffed up with pride. “Well, it’s all in the soil preparation…” Jane and I swapped book recommendations regularly. “Oh, Emma, you have to read this one,” she’d say, pressing a novel into my hands. “It’s absolutely gripping.”We gave them permission to use our garden and pool any time they wanted — we were set for our annual family vacation, so it felt good leaving the place for our new neighbors to enjoy. Fast forward to last week. Mike and I returned from our vacation, and what we found left us livid. Our beautiful garden was trampled, the pool was filthy with debris, and

there was garbage strewn all over the driveway. It was a complete nightmare. “What the heck happened here?” Mike exclaimed, his face red with anger. I clenched my fists. “I don’t know, but I’m going to find out.” We marched over to the Johnsons’ house. I knocked on the door, my jaw set with determination. Jane answered with a smile that seemed a bit too wide. “Hey, neighbors! How was your trip?” she chirped. “What happened to our property?” Mike demanded to know, not standing for any small talk.Tom stepped out to meet us on the porch, his face a mask of innocence. “That wasn’t us. You can’t prove anything,” he snapped. I raised an eyebrow. “Why did you think we’d accuse you? Do you know who did this?” Jane’s eyes darted nervously. “Oh, maybe it was the neighbors across the road? Ethan and his girlfriend — they’re a weird couple, bunch of hippies, if you ask me.” “Right,” I said, not believing a word. “We’ll go check with them.” We decided to check it out. Ethan answered the door, looking

confused at our aggressive tone. His girlfriend, Olivia, stood next to him, equally bewildered. “Look, we’re sorry to bother you,” I started, “but our property was vandalized while we were away. The Johnsons suggested it might have been you.” Ethan’s eyes widened. “What? No way! We’ve barely left the house since moving in. We’ve been renovating.”Olivia stepped forward. “Actually, we might be able to help. We installed security cameras last week. They cover part of your property too.” “Really?” Mike perked up. “Would you mind if we took a look?” Ethan nodded. “Of course, come on in.” We watched the footage in disbelief. The Johnsons had thrown multiple parties at our house while we were away. Their guests had no respect for our property, and Jane and Tom did nothing to stop them. “I can’t believe this,” I muttered, watching Jane laugh as her kid spray-painted our fence. Mike’s fists were clenched. “Those lying, two-faced —” “I’m so sorry,” Ethan said. “We had no idea this was happening.” Olivia nodded. “Yeah, if we’d known, we would have said something.”We thanked them for their help and left, fury building with each step back to the Johnsons’ house. This time, we didn’t bother knocking. “Hey, Jane,” I called out, my voice dripping with sarcasm. “It’s just a coincidence that your kids were spray-

painting our fence, right?” Jane laughed nervously. “Kids will be kids, you know?” “Just some trash?” Mike exploded. “Our pool is filthy, our garden is destroyed, and there’s garbage all over our property!” “And let’s not forget the multiple parties you threw at our house,” I added. “We saw the security footage.” Jane’s face paled. “What footage?” “Ethan and Olivia’s security cameras caught everything,” I explained, enjoying the look of panic on their faces. Their smug attitudes fueled my anger. I knew it was time to teach them a lesson they wouldn’t forget.That night, after the Johnsons had gone to bed, Mike and I put our plan into action. We gathered up all the garbage they’d left at our house, plus a few extra “presents” from our trash. At midnight, we crept over to their yard. “Ready?” I whispered to Mike. He nodded, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Let’s do this.” We spread the trash all over their lawn and garden, making sure it was a complete mess. As a final touch, we let our kids paint whatever they wanted on the

Johnsons’ front fence. “Remember, kids,” I whispered, “be as creative as you want.” Our daughter grinned, wielding her paintbrush like a weapon. “This is gonna be fun!” The next morning, we woke up early to watch the show. Jane’s scream of disgust was music to my ears. “Tom! Tom! Look at this!” she shrieked. Tom stumbled out, and his jaw dropped at the sight. “What is this?” We casually strolled over, coffee mugs in hand. “Everything okay?” I asked innocently. Jane turned to us, her face red with anger. “Did you do this?” I shrugged, mimicking Tom’s gesture from yesterday. “You’re blowing this out of proportion.