Harry stepped back down onto the top porch step and jabbed a thick finger at my chest.

“Don’t bother looking to the board for help,” Harry said.

“You’re finished in this neighborhood.”

I stayed still in the open doorway and watched the two of them walk down my concrete path.

Harry didn’t head back to his house next door.

He went down to the end of the cul-de-sac, where Miller and Higgins were washing a blue sedan in their driveway.

Within ten minutes three of the neighbors were standing on the sidewalk while Harry waved his arms wildly at my front windows.