She noticed.
My sister sighed.
"I thought so."
I looked away.
Since the incident, I had been checking the cameras repeatedly.
I woke at small noises.
I sometimes stood beside the window late at night, looking toward the fence.
Logically, I knew the property was secure.
The locks worked.
The alarm system operated.
And the police had documented the incident.
But the feeling of invasion remained.
Someone had climbed into the private space where I spent time with my family.
Someone had deliberately damaged something I cared about.
Then laughed.
That kind of violation didn't disappear when the pool water became clear again.
My sister stepped closer.
"Listen."
I looked toward her.
"Don't let that woman steal every peaceful moment from you."
I took a breath.
She continued.
"You've got your attorney. You've got the sheriff's office. You've got neighbors speaking up."
I nodded.
"Let them do their work."
I looked toward the pool.
For several seconds, I was quiet.
Then I smiled faintly.
"You sound like Dad."
She laughed.
"One of us had to inherit his common sense."
I grinned.
"Apparently."
Then she opened one of the grocery bags.
"Now sit down. I'm making lunch."
I obeyed.
And for the first time since the incident, the house began feeling like a home again.
The association's first major reform vote took place six weeks after the pool contamination.
By then, Patricia had been formally removed from the presidency under the procedures available to the board and membership, and the remaining directors had appointed interim leadership while a broader election was arranged.
Several people urged me to run for president.
I declined.
Not because I was afraid.
Because I already had a business to manage, and I didn't believe the neighborhood needed another powerful personality at the center of every decision.
It needed dependable rules.
Eleanor disagreed with my decision at first.
We were drinking coffee in her kitchen when she brought it up.
"You should run."
I shook my head.
"No."
She looked offended.
"Why not?"
"Eleanor, I spent months complaining that the president had too much influence. I'm not going to campaign as the one man who can fix everything."
She smiled.
"Perhaps that's why you'd be good at it."
I laughed.
"Flattery won't work."
She leaned forward.
"Then what will?"
I considered the question.
"More people willing to serve."
Eleanor studied me.
I continued.
"People who will ask questions. People who understand budgets. People who won't treat disagreement as disloyalty."
She nodded slowly.