I never thought a simple act of envy would spiral into something so sinister. When I threw away the Jollof rice my neighbour, Mrs Adeyemi, gave my children, I believed I was protecting them from her kindness—perhaps even her intentions. But the next morning, the street was eerily silent, and every stray dog lay dead, and I was left to question everything I thought I knew about my neighbour, my own heart, and the secrets we keep in our small London community.