That comment received more reactions than anything else.
Victoria disliked it enough to post an official statement.
The association is evaluating potential historical access rights affecting the Miller Ranch corridor. Residents should avoid speculation until the board completes review.
Garrett saw the statement that evening.
He forwarded it to Michael.
His attorney replied:
Perfect.
Garrett called.
“What’s perfect?”
“They just admitted they’re still evaluating whether rights exist.”
“So?”
“So they are not claiming established rights.”
Michael paused.
“Save the screenshot.”
Garrett did.
Saturday morning brought the final delivery.
The flatbed truck arrived shortly after seven carrying the prefabricated stone sections and the steel gate.
The new gate was not ornamental.
It was functional.
Heavy rectangular frame.
Steel slats.
Internal reinforcement.
Mounted on commercial hinges.
Garrett had considered electronic access but rejected it.
Too much complexity for a ranch entrance used primarily by him, suppliers, vets, and occasional authorized visitors.
Instead, he installed a secure locking mechanism accessible only from inside the property or by key.
The pedestrian latch was also inside.
From the public side, there was no handle.
No chain to lift.
No simple latch to reach over.
If Garrett wanted someone inside, he opened it.
If not, the wall remained a wall.
By eleven, the old wooden gate came down.
Garrett paused before removing the final hinge.
His father had built that gate.
The wood was weathered and repaired in a dozen places.
Garrett ran one hand along the top rail.
For a moment, the project felt less satisfying.
His father had believed a closed gate was enough.
For decades, it had been.