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A neighbor I’d never even spoken to arrived with a chainsaw.
Another brought water and snacks. Someone else coordinated a debris removal truck. By late afternoon, Darlene’s yard looked better than it had in years.
“You didn’t cause anything,” I told her firmly.
“He did.”
Apparently, Gavin saw the post from Florida.
Three days later, his Porsche came speeding into the neighborhood like he was fleeing a crime scene.
He didn’t even park properly.
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