Jack and I had just moved into a small rental house for a temporary work assignment. It was a quiet neighborhood with a patchy lawn and tan bricks. We’d barely finished unpacking when a woman named Lindsey, dressed in pastel and holding a tray of cookies, stopped by. She was overly friendly, but her eyes kept darting around like she was sizing us up.She warned us about a strict HOA rule:

only one car allowed per driveway. We shrugged it off; we weren’t staying long. But three days later, I woke up to the sound of tow trucks hauling both our cars away. Lindsey, wearing a bathrobe, stood nearby, looking smug.I called her out on it, mentioning a small sticker on my car that indicated we were part of a government operation. Lindsey’s face went,