Janitor Finds Gym Floor Filled With Umbrellas, Then Reads the Note Left for Him

Not like him

Frank didn’t leave work early. Ever. He was the first one in, last one out. It was part of who he was. But now he sat frozen in his car, keys trembling in his hand. He should call someone—his boss, maybe even the police. But something about the voice, the umbrellas, the perfect placement of everything—it made him feel like he shouldn’t.