One night after work, I came home to find a toothpick jammed into my door lock. My brother helped fix it, but the same thing happened the next evening. We set up a hidden camera—and what I saw shocked me. It wasn’t a vandal. It was a little girl in a bright yellow raincoat, nervously sticking toothpicks into the lock before running away.
The next day, I waited outside. When she appeared, I gently asked why. She whispered, “My dad used to fix locks. He got sick and went away. Sometimes I pretend he still has jobs to do.” My heart sank. She wasn’t causing trouble—she was trying to keep her dad’s memory alive.
