The first knock on the door at our housewarming felt normal—until more neighbors arrived. Every single one of them wore identical red gloves.At first, Regina and I laughed it off, but soon we noticed no one ever removed them. Not to eat, not to drink, not even when it got warm inside.

When I finally asked our elderly neighbor Mrs. Harper, she whispered: “It’s tradition. You’ll understand soon enough.”The night ended with a note slipped under our door:“Welcome to the neighborhood. Don’t forget your red gloves. You’ll need them soon.”

Days later, strange symbols appeared in our yard. Whispers in the night. A red-gloved doll on our porch. When I demanded answers, the neighbors burst out laughing.It was all a prank—an initiation every new couple endured.

We got them back with fake spiders at dinner, and the laughter that followed sealed our place in the community.Now we keep a pair of red gloves by the door—just in case.