“Then tell me the truth and see what happens,” Elena said.

Nora stepped backward from the pool. “I want someone to hear me without telling me which words I’m allowed to use.”

A vehicle door slammed on the street. Nora flinched so violently she almost lost her footing.

Elena looked beyond her shoulder. A white utility van was parked outside the gate. A man in a polo shirt stood on the sidewalk holding a tablet. He was smiling, as if arriving to complete a routine appointment.

“Mrs. Fenwick,” he called, “the observation period is over.”

Nora stared at him. “I haven’t finished speaking.”

“You certainly have.”

He opened the gate without knocking. Elena stepped fully onto the patio, furious all over again.

“This is private property,” she said.

The man paused and gave a careful, professional nod. “Good morning. I’m Simon Pell, community assessment coordinator. I believe we can clear up this unfortunate misunderstanding.”

“What assessment?”

Simon looked at Nora, then the floating trash, then back at Elena. “Mrs. Fenwick is participating in a neighborhood response exercise. We sincerely regret the inconvenience.”

Nora made a small, choking sound. “You told me she’d been informed.”

Simon ignored her. “Our organization will cover cleaning costs. If you could avoid contacting third parties until we’ve completed the report, we’d greatly appreciate it.”

“I didn’t agree to any exercise.”

“There’s been a communication error.”

He reached into his pocket for a business card, but Nora moved between them.

“Don’t give her that one,” she said sharply. “Give her the other one. The one with your real office.”

For the first time Simon’s smile disappeared.

Elena looked from his polished shoes to the bag lying crumpled at Nora’s feet. The material wasn’t the thin kind sold in supermarkets. It was industrial grade, with an orange drawstring and a small green square printed near the bottom. She had seen bags just like it somewhere recently, but could not place them.

“Both of you leave,” she said. “Now. And I’m keeping the footage.”

Simon lifted his hands. “Of course. Please don’t make this more distressing than necessary.”

Nora’s eyes met Elena’s. In them was a warning so unmistakable that Elena felt a fresh coldness settle behind her ribs.

“Look at what happened before I brought the bag,” Nora whispered.

Then Simon took her by the elbow and guided her toward the gate. Elena remained by the ruined pool until the van pulled away, its tires whispering over the hot pavement. Only then did she retrieve her phone and open the camera application.

The visible camera showed a woman making a mess. The hidden one showed something else altogether.

At ten fifty-two, Simon had entered through the side gate alone. He had checked the latch, unfolded a small stool, and positioned a flat black case beneath Elena’s garden bench. He had returned twenty minutes later with Nora, speaking close to her ear. When she stepped away from him, he had raised his tablet, pointed toward the house, and apparently issued an instruction.