“He sleeps on a porch.”
“I know.”
“Then why are they treating him like a government asset?”
The attorney paused.
“Because that's what he is.”
Victoria sat back down.
Her hands began to shake.
“What have I done?”
Her attorney didn't answer.
That was the answer.
Meanwhile, Claire was sitting at the kitchen table.
Atlas lay beneath it.
Daniel stood by the counter.
“You okay?”
Claire nodded.
“I think so.”
“You're pale.”
“I'm eight months pregnant.”
Daniel smiled.
“Fair.”
Claire looked toward Atlas.
“He didn't move.”
“What?”
“When she raised the bat.”
Daniel's expression changed.
“What did he do?”
“Nothing.”
“That doesn't sound like Atlas.”
“He was waiting.”
“For you?”
Claire nodded.
Daniel walked over.
He crouched beside Atlas.
“Good boy.”
Atlas lifted his head.
Claire smiled.
“You know what the weirdest part is?”
“What?”
“I wasn't afraid of Atlas.”
Daniel looked at her.
“I was afraid of what she was trying to make him become.”
Daniel understood.
“That woman was trying to provoke him.”
“Yes.”
“If he'd reacted—”
“Then the entire story would have become about a dangerous dog.”
Daniel sat beside her.
“Instead, it became about a woman with a baseball bat.”
Claire nodded.
“That was the point.”
Atlas rested his head against Claire's leg.
She stroked his fur.
“You did exactly what you were supposed to do.”
Atlas closed his eyes.
The following week, the HOA held an emergency board meeting.
Victoria attended.
So did her attorney.
The meeting was supposed to discuss landscaping violations.
Instead, everyone wanted to discuss the federal incident.
One board member asked Victoria if she intended to resign.
She looked down.
“I don't know.”
Another asked whether the HOA had authority to remove animals from private properties.
The attorney answered.
“Not in the manner that occurred.”
Another asked whether Victoria had actually struck the signal box.
Silence.
Victoria finally said:
“Yes.”
The room became uncomfortable.
“Why?”
Victoria struggled to answer.
“Because I thought it was unauthorized.”
“You could have requested an inspection.”
“I did.”
“No. You demanded access.”
Victoria looked at the table.
The attorney spoke carefully.
“Regardless of the dispute, the use of a baseball bat was indefensible.”
Victoria closed her eyes.
“I know.”
The board president beside her asked quietly:
“Why did you go that far?”
Victoria didn't answer.
Because the truth embarrassed her.
She had begun to believe the neighborhood belonged to her.
Not legally.
Emotionally.
She had spent years enforcing rules.
She had learned that people often obeyed when she spoke firmly.
She had become accustomed to being listened to.
Then Claire arrived.
And Claire didn't scare easily.
She asked questions.
She demanded documentation.