When my neighbor showed up at my door before sunrise and whispered urgently, “Don’t go to work today—please believe me,” I was confused and uneasy.

I couldn’t understand why he would say something like that. By midday, the real reason behind his warning became horrifying—and it turned my world upside down.

The knocking started a little after 4 a.m., loud and urgent. I opened the door carefully and found my neighbor, Graham, standing there in a sweatshirt, hair still damp, eyes constantly scanning the street as if he feared being watched.

“Do not go to work today,” he said quietly. “Please. Stay inside.”

I tried to ask questions, but he refused to explain. He only repeated his wa:rning, then added something that made my stomach drop:
“Especially you.”

After he left, I couldn’t calm the sense of dread. Ignoring my routine, I called in sick. A few hours later, unfamiliar numbers began ringing my phone. I didn’t pick up.

Close to noon, a breaking news alert flashed across my screen:
An ongoing investigation near the downtown courthouse. A targeted threat against a courthouse employee.