Not blanket accusations.
Anita watched the proceedings with mixed emotions.
She was relieved that the records were finally receiving attention.
But she also regretted that her earlier warnings hadn't prevented harm.
During one conversation with Nadia, she admitted feeling responsible.
The investigator listened.
Then asked whether Anita had created the false documents.
"No."
"Did you approve them?"
"No."
"Did you raise the problem?"
"Yes."
Nadia nodded.
"Then the people who chose to ignore those concerns need to answer for their own decisions."
Anita looked toward the window.
For several seconds, she remained quiet.
Then she said.
"I just wish Lorraine had lived long enough to see somebody listen."
The city began contacting homeowners whose cases might have been affected.
Residents received information about the audit, the available review process, and how to dispute charges or seek remedies when appropriate.
Some received refunds.
Others pursued civil claims concerning unauthorized work or property damage.
Several cases required additional investigation because the records were incomplete.
The process was neither quick nor perfect.
But it gave people opportunities that hadn't existed when Greenway controlled much of the information.
Ruth Daniels received notice that the charges associated with her disputed shrub removal were being corrected.
When she opened the letter, she read it several times.
Then she called her granddaughter.
Her voice trembled.
"They finally looked at my case."
The younger woman sounded relieved.
"Grandma, that's wonderful."
Ruth began crying.
For months, she'd been frightened that questioning the city would lead to more trouble.
Now the records showed she had a legitimate reason to challenge the notice.
The correction didn't bring back her old shrubs.
But it restored something important.
Her confidence that asking for evidence hadn't been wrong.
Julian Brooks also received an opportunity to have the fence charges reviewed.
He and his wife used the corrected information to plan safe restoration of the property.
Their children helped choose flowers for the yard.
For the first time in months, Julian stopped feeling nervous whenever he saw a municipal vehicle near his street.
The experience hadn't disappeared.
But it no longer controlled every decision he made.
Talia learned that her mother had left one more document in the old filing box.
It was an envelope addressed to her.
She found it while organizing Lorraine's desk on a rainy Sunday afternoon.
The envelope was tucked beneath a stack of church newsletters and gardening receipts.
Across the front, Lorraine had written:
For my daughter, when she has time to come home.
Talia sat down.
For several seconds, she simply held it.
Then she opened the envelope carefully.
Inside was a letter.
Her mother's handwriting filled three pages.
The first part concerned ordinary things.