A stranger and I have been exchanging books through a closed bank’s drive-through tube

The pneumatic tube still works.

The bank does not.

Its drive-through closed after a merger, but the clear tube remained in the outdoor station. One day, I placed a paperback in the carrier as a joke and pushed SEND.

The carrier vanished into the building.

The next morning, it returned with a different book and a note: “Good choice. Try this.”

For eight months, an unknown person and I exchanged books through the tube. We left reviews on deposit slips and never shared names.

I assumed the other reader worked for the property owner.

She assumed I did.

We met accidentally last week when both of us arrived at dawn. She is a nurse who walks past after night shifts. Neither of us has permission to use the building system.

The property was recently sold. Contractors found twelve books inside the machine room where the carrier sometimes jammed. They reported possible trespassing and shut off power.

The new owner wants the remaining notes removed before renovation. Some include personal reflections we wrote because anonymity felt safe.

My exchange partner wants the books donated together with the story. I want the notes returned or destroyed, not archived by strangers.

What felt like a tiny public library was actually private equipment inside a locked building.

How should we end—or relocate—a meaningful exchange that existed only because two people made the same mistaken assumption about permission?