I walk up to the front door. I feel like I’m on a movie set, as if nothing is real. I peer through the front door window and note the bleached wood floors and the overly white interior. It’s shabby chic, so ten years ago really, but they bought it furnished and you get what you pay for, I suppose. On the front porch, to my left, a cozy wicker couch and matching chair, so I could just sit down and watch the activity on this quiet street. But I’m not going to wait for them to come home. Don’t worry, I’m not going to be violent or anything. There won’t be a rabbit on the stove. That’s just not my style. You know me well enough by now, don’t you?

I open the bronze flap and shove the envelope through the mail slot, waiting until it hits the floor. It lands perfectly, faceup, addressed to Nancy Finch Holiday in big block letters. I check my phone, and Kylie’s car and David’s car are both on the move. Yoga is over, and so, I’m afraid, is all of their fun.

I hurry down the walkway to the street, my heart thumping. This has been the most excitement I’ve had in a long time. I pull away from the curb and head back home to the more exclusive community where I belong. Kylie thinks she can just take, take, take without working for anything. And she’s been lucky so far. But not anymore.

As I let her know in my anonymous letter—yes, I also pen anonymous notes—

I’ve outlined all the facts. Her real name. The crimes she’s been charged with. The warrant for her arrest. And I also let her know, helpfully, that the exact same information will be delivered to the Orange County sheriff’s office. I wish I could have stayed around, I wish I could hear how she’ll explain the letter to David.

If I know her, and I feel like I do, she’ll hurry inside after unlocking the front door and scoop up the letter before David sees it. She never parks in the garage even at her apartment, a low-class move that David seems not to notice. He has other things on his mind when he follows her inside.

I predict she’ll be gone by the morning. She’ll wait until David comes home to me tonight, what was to be his last night at our house.

I can’t wait until after graduation when you’re all mine, Kylie texted yesterday.

Just two more nights of this hell. And I’m all yours, David texted in reply.