Andre crouched beside her.
“Sweetheart, our job is to follow the rules that actually apply and treat people respectfully.”
She nodded.
“And if somebody doesn't like our pool?”
He smiled gently.
“They don't have to swim in it.”
Maya giggled.
He laughed.
Then returned to the patio.
Twenty minutes later, Cynthia opened the side gate.
Andre didn't hear the latch.
He was in the kitchen looking for the tape Maya wanted.
The first sign came from the pool's security camera notification.
His phone vibrated.
A motion alert appeared.
He glanced at the screen.
Then froze.
Cynthia was kneeling beside the pool.
She held the gray hose.
For a moment, he thought she was moving equipment.
Then the discharge began.
Andre stared at his phone.
His heart accelerated.
He ran toward the patio.
And the afternoon became the nightmare he would remember for years.
“ENJOY MY TOILET WATER!”
Cynthia shouted as he stepped outside.
The filthy water splashed into the pool.
Andre moved toward her.
Then stopped, remembering Rosa Alvarez's warning.
Don't touch a suspected wastewater discharge.
Keep people away.
Report it.
He turned toward Maya.
Told her to remain inside.
Then contacted emergency services.
He described the situation accurately.
A woman had entered his property.
She was deliberately discharging suspected sewage into a residential swimming pool.
Children were present inside the house.
The discharge was ongoing.
He provided the address and requested assistance.
The dispatcher asked him to remain at a safe distance.
Andre complied.
He didn't wrestle with Cynthia.
Didn't grab the hose.
And didn't attempt to stop the pumping equipment himself.
He documented what he could without approaching the contaminated area.
Cynthia kept shouting.
She called him arrogant.
Uncooperative.
And irresponsible.
She announced that the association would require a complete sanitation inspection.
Andre barely responded.
He was watching the pool.
The water was becoming increasingly cloudy.
He thought about Maya.
The hundreds of hours she'd spent learning to feel comfortable around water.
The small victories.
The laughter.
And how proud she'd been when she first swam independently.
Now a stranger had deliberately contaminated the place she loved.
For a moment, he felt a surge of anger so intense that his hands began shaking.
Then he heard his father's voice in his memory.
His father had worked as a public-school maintenance supervisor for thirty-two years.
When Andre was young, he often accompanied him to community repair projects.
His father used to say something whenever a job went wrong.
“Don't let anger turn one problem into two.”
Andre took a breath.
Then remained where he was.
He could confront Cynthia later.
Right now, his family needed him calm.