When I got home, I found Tom waiting on my porch. His face looked 10 years older than it had a month ago. We had another meeting, he said, rubbing his temples. Let me guess, Karen. She's accusing you of endangering the community.
Claims your car's chemicals could cause an explosion. So now I'm a terrorist. She didn't use that word, but she hinted. I stared at him unblinking. You going to let her keep doing this?
He sighed. We're trying, John. The rest of us can't vote her out without a special session. And legally, she's still part of the board. We're stuck with her for now.
Then I'll handle her myself, I muttered. He frowned. Don't. She wants that. She's the kind who plays victim the moment someone pushes back.
I nodded, but inside I was done playing defense. That night, I walked the property line with a flashlight, checking locks and camera feeds. My instincts had kicked back to combat mode. The old cold clarity that kept me alive overseas. Every creek in the wood, every flicker of light, every rustle in the grass felt like an ambush waiting to happen.
The paranoia wasn't unfounded. 2 days later, I caught Karen inside my driveway again. It was early morning. I just let Duke out when I heard the gate click through the security cam feed on my phone there. She was kneeling by my mailbox with a tape measure.
I stepped outside. You lost Karen. She jumped. I'm measuring easement distance. There have been reports of property line encroachment.
From who? Anonymous sources. Anonymous meaning you. She ignored me and kept measuring. Get off my property, I said evenly.
I'm within HOA jurisdiction. Last warning, Karen. She stood chin tilted like a general facing an inferior. "You think your soldier act intimidates me?" "This isn't a war zone, John." You can't bark orders here. "Then stop acting like a dictator." She pointed her finger, trembling with rage.
"You're unstable. Everyone can see it. You scare people." Duke growled behind me a low rumble. Karen took one step back, muttering something about calling the authorities, and stormed off. I watched her go heart pounding, not from fear, but from the effort it took not to lose my composure.
By now, most of the neighborhood was divided. Half avoided her entirely. The other half, mostly new residents who didn't know better, still believed her story that I was a disruptive influence. Sarah, the realtor on the board, stopped by one evening. She looked uneasy.