The Misdelivered Secret Between Arthur and the Girl Next Door

The box on my porch was almost as tall as my kitchen table, and it had her name on it—the girl next door I’d already decided was empty inside.

“Not again,” I said.

My voice came out sharp enough to make my own ears sting.

The delivery man was already halfway down the sidewalk, earbuds in, blue cap pulled low, tossing packages like he was feeding chickens.continue reading …