I asked him to avoid any device that could record inside a neighbor’s private space.
He nodded and adjusted the street camera accordingly.
I felt safer after he left, but I did not feel triumphant.
The house still smelled faintly of paint remover.
The broken gate leaned against the garage wall.
Evelyn’s maple tree stood in the evening light like an innocent witness.
Karen had not yet touched the one thing she could use to break my composure.
I was afraid she eventually would.
On Monday, a city inspector named Owen Price arrived at my door.
He carried a clipboard and looked embarrassed before he introduced himself.
He explained that the city had received a complaint about structural hazards.
I invited him to inspect the exterior with me.
He found no immediate danger.
The porch railing was sound, the garage foundation was stable, and the maple tree showed no obvious emergency condition.
He said a certified arborist could assess the tree if a formal concern remained.
I asked for a written copy of his findings.
He said the report would be available through the department.
Karen watched from her driveway while Owen examined the garage.
She approached as he packed his equipment.
She demanded to know whether he intended to condemn the house.
Owen told her that inspection results would be handled through official channels.
Karen pointed at the maple tree and claimed its roots were destroying the road.
Owen said the roadway department would need evidence before evaluating that claim.
She accused him of protecting me.
He returned to his truck without answering.
I stood beside the porch and watched her stare after him.
For the first time, I saw something besides confidence in her expression.
I saw urgency.
That night, the dark sedan appeared across the street.
Its driver remained there for almost an hour.
I recorded the vehicle description and its arrival time.
I did not approach it.
The next morning, I found a folded notice in my mailbox.
It announced an emergency neighborhood meeting about public safety.
My address appeared in bold print beneath a photograph of my front steps.
The photograph had been taken after the paint attack.
The notice described the damage as evidence of my unstable behavior.
I felt anger rise so suddenly that I had to set the paper down.
I walked into the kitchen and filled a glass with cold water.
I remembered my promise to Sophie.
Then I photographed the notice and called Mara.
