“Give me one second,” I said. Diane started yelling something behind me, but I walked calmly into the living room and grabbed a thick binder from the coffee table. I had prepared it the night before just in case. Inside were printouts from the monitoring system, energy logs, timestamps, camera screenshots, and a neat summary of exactly how much power Diane Mercer had pulled from my solar system over the last three weeks. When I stepped back outside, I handed the binder to Paul.
He flipped it open slowly. The first page showed a timeline. Night after night, charging session after charging session, each one clearly labeled. Paul adjusted his glasses and looked at Diane. Diane, did you actually plug your car into his system multiple times? Diane crossed her arms. That’s not the issue. It kind of is, Erica said quietly. Diane’s eyes snapped toward her. He created a hazardous device. I leaned against the porch railing. Actually, it’s a protective relay designed to prevent unauthorized loads.
Paul looked up from the binder. Did it damage the car? I shrugged. From what I saw, it probably fried the charging cable and tripped the car’s internal protection systems. Tesla builds those things pretty tough. Dian scoffed. You’re admitting it. I’m admitting you were repeatedly stealing power from my private system. The word stealing hung in the air for a moment. Paul turned another page in the binder. There were still images from the security cameras. Diane walking up to the charger, plugging in, standing beside the car while it charged.
Night after night, Erica leaned over his shoulder. “Oh, wow,” she muttered. Diane shifted uncomfortably. “That footage was taken without my consent.” “It was taken on my property,” I said. Paul closed the binder slowly. “Well, this definitely complicates things.” Diane stared at him. “Complicates what?” He sighed. You filed a complaint saying he was restricting access to community utilities. Yes, but this doesn’t appear to be community utilities. She pointed toward my roof. He generates excess power and that still doesn’t make it public property, Erica said.
Dian’s face turned red. This neighborhood has standards. Yes, Paul replied calmly. And theft is usually one of them. That line hit harder than I expected. For a moment, nobody spoke. You could hear birds in the trees, someone mowing a lawn two houses away. Normal Saturday sounds. Finally, Diane straightened her shoulders. This isn’t over, she said. I shrugged. You’re welcome to call a lawyer. She hesitated because here’s the thing. If this situation ever reached a courtroom, those logs would become evidence.
