When I moved to Maplewood Estates, I thought I’d found paradise. But the truth hit me like a ton of bricks the moment I received a fine for my “unapproved” lawn furniture. Unapproved? What kind of twisted neighborhood had I landed in? As I stepped into the HOA office to contest the fine, I felt …
The first drop of water exploded on my grandmother’s painting, a muddy brown spiderweb blooming across the delicate bluebonnets. Rage, hot and sickening, surged through me; this wasn’t an accident, but a calculated, deliberate act of war waged with overflowing gutters and spite. Each unanswered call, every ignored email, only sharpened the edge of my …
