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Then my lawn mower disappeared from the garage.
It returned a week later with an empty tank, a dull blade, and no explanation.
Again, I said nothing.
Three children, I told myself.
She’s busy.
Give her some grace.
Monica did the same thing to other people.
Frank, who lived across the street, once complained that she had “borrowed” his ladder and forgotten to return it.
At the time, I laughed.
That was Monica.
She borrowed first and asked questions later.
Looking back, I should have realized that people rarely stop crossing boundaries when nobody ever forces them to stop.
“Keep the peace, Eleanor,” I muttered.
I had been telling myself that for years.
Then I looked at the bill again.
Two hundred and twenty-seven dollars.
For a woman who watched PBS, boiled one kettle a day, and barely used the air conditioner.
Something was using electricity.
And I was going to discover what it was.
That night, I went to bed with one question running through my mind.
Who was using all that power?
