The tire damage.
The note.
The HOA notices.
And the earlier interaction with Sandra.
He took the report professionally.
Then asked whether I had security footage.
The camera above my garage covered the driveway.
Unfortunately, the person who damaged the tires had approached partly through a blind spot near the side yard.
The recording showed a dark vehicle stopping nearby.
Then a figure moving toward the house.
But the image wasn't clear enough to establish the person's identity.
I gave the deputy the original footage.
He explained that the matter would require further investigation.
I understood.
I didn't ask him to arrest Sandra simply because I suspected she was connected.
Suspicion wasn't proof.
But when I returned to the house, I knew one thing.
Whoever left the note expected me to become frightened enough to move the car.
I wasn't going to.
That afternoon, a delivery driver brought flowers.
White lilies.
Beautifully arranged.
The card carried Sandra's name.
I opened it.
Then stared.
So sorry to hear about your unfortunate incident. Neighborhood tension affects everyone.
For a long time, I stood in the kitchen holding the card.
Then I laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because the message was so calculated.
She'd avoided admitting anything.
She'd expressed sympathy.
And she'd managed to suggest that I was responsible for creating the neighborhood tension that preceded the attack.
I photographed the card.
Saved the delivery information.
Then placed it with the other documents.
Later that evening, I called Hannah.
She answered on the third ring.
“Marcus?”
“Hey.”
“Everything okay?”
I looked toward the Porsche sitting on temporary service equipment in the driveway.
“Somebody vandalized the car.”
She went quiet.
“What?”
I explained.
The damage.
The note.
The police report.
The possibility that it was connected to the HOA dispute.
Hannah listened carefully.
Then asked, “Is Eli safe coming over this weekend?”
The question hurt.
Not because she was wrong to ask.
Because the answer should have been obvious.
My home was supposed to be a safe place for our son.
“I don't believe he's in immediate danger,” I said. “But I'm taking the threat seriously and improving the security around the house.”
She was silent.
Then asked, “Do you want him to stay with me until this settles?”
For a moment, I considered saying yes.
It would be easier.
No explanations.