Moja sąsiadka ścięła moje kwiaty, bo nie pasowały do ​​„minimalistycznej estetyki” jej beżowego domu — rano tego pożałowała

Then she asked something strange. “How much did the camera catch?”

I stared at her. “What?”

“Did it record all night?”

That wasn’t the question of somebody worried about being embarrassed.

“Why?”

Whitney’s expression changed.

“I just want that thing off my lawn.”

She grabbed the plywood and dragged it toward her garage.

I let her.

I had the video.

Then, at 7:30, a truck pulled into Whitney’s driveway.

A man wearing a reflective vest got out carrying equipment.

Another car followed.

Whitney came outside immediately.

She saw me watching.

Her face went pale.

The man walked toward our fence.

“Morning,” he called. “You must be Ellen.”

I nodded.

“I’m Paul. Surveying.”