Stealing From The Wrong Lunchbox

My coworker Molly always referred to herself in the third person as a "shameless little foodie." A self-proclaimed snack monster.

She was shameless enough to slip into the breakroom kitchen every single day to scavenge, yet somehow possessed the supernatural precision to target only my glass meal-prep containers.

Months went by like this. Every homemade meal I brought vanished down her throat, leaving me to scramble for overpriced DoorDash deliveries. My monthly grocery and takeout expenses doubled, then tripled.