I looked toward my office screen.
“Why?”
“Because it shows a proposed route crossing your land.”
“I noticed.”
She continued.
“And because somebody labeled the surrounding area in a way that could make the estate appear to be included in HOA-managed property.”
I nodded.
“That's what she was claiming.”
Elena took a breath.
“We need to determine whether the map was simply a concept drawing prepared by someone who misunderstood the parcel boundary, or whether somebody knowingly used it to assert rights they didn't have.”
I leaned forward.
“How?”
“Request the association's basis for the claim. Identify the project designer. Review the public planning records. And if necessary, obtain a current survey and title analysis.”
I nodded.
Then asked, “What about the police report?”
“Preserve everything. We'll review the report once available and consider the appropriate remedies concerning the unauthorized entry and the statements made.”
For a moment, I stared toward the camera monitor.
Then I asked something that surprised even me.
“Elena, is there a way to stop her from coming near Ava again?”
The attorney's voice softened.
“We can send a formal notice prohibiting unauthorized entry, seek appropriate relief if the conduct continues, and work with the authorities if there are further incidents. The exact remedy depends on what happens and what the evidence supports.”
I nodded.
“Okay.”
She paused.
“How's your daughter?”
I looked toward the hallway.
“She's asleep.”
“That wasn't what I asked.”
For a moment, I smiled sadly.
“She cried because she thought somebody could take our house.”
Elena was quiet.
Then she said gently, “Malcolm, we can deal with the property records. Make sure she knows you're dealing with it.”
I closed my eyes.
“I will.”
When the call ended, I opened the pool recording one more time.
I watched the moment Caroline kicked the towel.
Then the moment Ava reached toward me.
My hands tightened.
For a second, I wanted to post the video publicly.
Let everybody see.
Let the neighbors watch their HOA president frightening an eight-year-old child.
I wanted Caroline embarrassed.
I wanted her reputation damaged.
I wanted her to feel one fraction of what she'd made my daughter feel.