Three days after moving into our dream home, our neighbors called the authorities over our kids playing—six months later, my son was afraid to laugh in his own backyard

on the trampoline.”

Thick cream envelopes, one after another.

Always addressed to my husband and me in the same formal typeface.

“Emily, another one?”

My husband held up the letter at the kitchen counter, his eyebrows raised.

“What’s it about this time?”

“Sidewalk chalk. Apparently, the drawings on our own driveway are a ‘visual disturbance to the community continue reading …