Noise violations.

Trash cans.

Landscaping.

Each fine became larger.

$50.

$75.

$100.

I started documenting everything.

Photographs.

Dates.

Times.

Copies of every notice.

I kept records of Vivian's surveillance.

I saved every email.

I even recorded our phone conversations where permitted by state law.

I wasn't going to fight Vivian with anger.

I was going to fight her with evidence.

The Midnight Visitor

Then Trevor decided to get personally involved.

One Wednesday night, around eleven, I heard footsteps outside.

I looked through the blinds.

Trevor was standing in my yard.

He was holding his phone like a flashlight.

I stepped outside.

"What are you doing?"

"Official HOA business."

"At eleven at night?"

"We received noise complaints."

"From whom?"

"Can't reveal sources."

"You're trespassing."

He smiled.

"My mom runs this neighborhood. You really think the cops are going to believe some divorced loser over her?"

That sentence told me everything.

This wasn't stupidity.

It was entitlement.

I pulled out my phone.

"I'm calling the police."

Trevor immediately ran.

The responding officer told me that without evidence, there wasn't much they could do.

So I installed cameras.

Every entrance.