“Mom,” Emma said, her voice dropping to a whisper.

“Look at the signature line on the second page.”

At the bottom of the application form, right below a paragraph warning about the penalties for submitting false zoning information, was a signature.

The ink was dark and bold, written with a heavy hand.

“He signed this drawing himself, which means he knew,” I said.

“He knew exactly where the line was before he ever dug the first hole,” Emma said, her ring clicking against her fingernail.

“He knew he was taking your grass.”