Page 28 of Once Upon a Lie

“Yep.” I follow his gaze. “Looks that way.”

I guess some people might be bothered by Stanley peeking in their mailbox, but as far as I’m concerned, it’s pretty darn innocent. It took me years to learn the difference between harmless curiosity and something worth guarding against—and Stanley has never felt like the latter. He’s a nice guy too—certainly not someone from whom I ever feel in danger, and I don’t know . . . I don’t mind. A lot of people would probably be freaked out by the amount of time I spend talking to my bagels too.

I settle in, crossing my arms over my chest to give Stanley a little more time to peep without judgment.

“You’d be surprised what people get in the mail.” Stanley smiles, looking at all the mailboxes as a whimsical collective now. “Magazines, jury duty notices, electric bills, holiday cards, tax forms. One time I saw someone get a letter with a wax seal. Like medieval times. Very mysterious.” His grin grows as if he’s remembering the sight of it. “But you should never throw the coupon mailers away. Most people do, but I save them just in case.”

“You never know when one of those coupons could come in handy, huh?” I slide my mail out of my mailbox, stacking it with my neon HOA violation ticket from Rita.

“Oh, I never use the coupons,” he corrects, but he doesn’t expand either.

I hum. Maybe he was a mailman in a past life. Who knows?

“Well,” I say, locking my mailbox and inching toward the lobby. “I’m going to go process my violation in private now.”

“Good idea,” he says brightly. “But don’t worry too much, Valentina. You’ve always struck me as a very responsible trash disposer.”

“Thank you, Stanley,” I say, because he’s right. I really am a responsible trash disposer—I always double knot and check for leaks. I don’t understand what went wrong with this one.

Stanley shrugs before drifting toward another mailbox, whistling softly as he leans in to inspect the latch like he’s evaluating priceless art. I slip inside the elevator before he drags me down another rabbit-hole conversation about postage stamps or mailer coupons and press the button for the seventeenth floor.

Once inside my condo, I toss the stupid ticket, my mail, my purse, and my keys on my entry table and open the Magnolia Connect app against my better judgment.

The notifications have been going off all day, of course, but I was too busy running a bagel shop to check anything until now.

Rita Fortune: ​​Residents, please remember Magnolia Condos is a community, not a landfill. All trash bags must be sealed and no cardboard in the chute. We experienced a wildlife incident last week due to carelessness. It required far too much of my time and effort to investigate the situation. Clearly, we can all agree that I have too many responsibilities as your President to be busy with such nonsense.​​

Goodness. I hope Rita’s wearing a helmet up there on that high horse of hers so she doesn’t get a head injury when someone shoves her off.

Stanley (Unit: 1007): ​​The building smelled like a hot compost bin for 48 hours.​​

Dang, Stanley. Throw me under the bus much?

Callie (Unit: 1205): ​​I saw one of the raccoons! He was so cute and eating a bagel! Maybe we should name him?​​

Rita Fortune: ​​We will Not name pests, Callie.​​

Stanley (Unit: 1007): ​​I’m just happy the raccoons didn’t get into the mail room.​​

Lissa (Unit: 815): ​​People make mistakes. Let’s be kind.​​

Rita Fortune: ​​Kindness does not negate personal responsibility.​​

Shane (Unit: 1807): ​​Sounds like an accident to me. Bad luck happens. And how can we even know for sure who it was? Sometimes trash bags break open.​​

Rita Fortune: ​​I have matched a receipt to Unit 1707, Mr. Maddox. It’s very clear to me who the culprit is.​​

Damn, Rita. Putting me on blast in this chat is a new low.

Shane (Unit: 1807): ​​But you can’t be sure, Rita.​​

Rita Fortune: ​​Mr. Maddox, I am very sure. Accountability is non-negotiable. If you disagree, maybe this building isn’t for you.​​

I have to admit, it’s nice to have the new guy trying to defend me since no one else is. Honestly, I’m not used to anyone volunteering themselves like this for me. I’ve lived in this building for a while, and I’ve always been a conscientious neighbor. I know they’re all scared of Rita—and anything they say won’t change their mind—but it’d be great to be getting a little more backup.

Stanley (Unit: 1007): ​​Did everyone check their mailboxes just to make sure the raccoons didn’t touch their mail? Does anyone need me to check their mailboxes for them?​​

Denny (Unit: 1106):​​ The raccoons would’ve had to take the elevator. Pretty sure the mail is fine, dude.​​