"Yes."
Her expression shifted rapidly from self-righteous irritation to profound disbelief. "I’m the one who called."
"That does not automatically make you the victim," Reyes replied.
Across the lawn, Officer Foster was speaking quietly with the neighbor. Just inside the sliding glass door, a teenage girl stood clutching a small white dog against her chest, her eyes wide with lingering fear.
Nancy followed Reyes's gaze. "They’re going to make me the bad person."
"I don’t know who did what yet," Reyes said, pulling out his notepad.
"I do."
"Then tell me."
Nancy crossed her arms tightly, the afternoon wind whipping through the bare branches above them, and began to speak.
Hawthorne Ridge consisted of sixty attached homes arranged perfectly around narrow lanes, shared lawns, and carefully maintained flower beds. It was precisely the kind of community where residents fiercely debated whether trash cans were visible from the street, and whether front-door wreaths were allowed to remain up after the holidays had passed.
Nancy had moved there seven months earlier.
Before the Ridge, she and her husband, Harold, had lived for thirty-two years in a sprawling, detached home just outside Evanston. They had enjoyed a large backyard, a tall cedar privacy fence, and absolutely no neighbors close enough to hear through closed windows.
Then, Harold’s health changed.
A mild stroke had left him with lingering weakness on his right side. Suddenly, the stairs of their beloved home became dangerous. Yard work became an impossible burden. Their daughter finally persuaded them to sell the house and move somewhere smaller, somewhere safer.
Hawthorne Ridge had seemed ideal on paper. It promised snow removal, meticulous landscaping, and a homeowners association that guaranteed "quiet enjoyment and consistent standards." Nancy had read every single rule in the dense bylaws before signing the purchase agreement.
Harold had not.
"You’re buying a home, Nance, not joining the Navy," he had told her with a tired smile.
But Nancy believed that rules protected people. Harold, conversely, believed that people survived rules by knowing exactly when to ignore them.