When my husband passed away two years ago, I thought the hardest battles were behind me. Raising three boys—ages 14, 12, and 9—alone was no easy feat, but we had found a rhythm. Life moved forward, even if it wasn’t the same. We shared responsibilities, kept our little garden thriving, and leaned on each other through difficult days.
Slowly but surely, I was starting to feel like I had some control again. Until, of course, my neighbor decided to turn my life into a ridiculous game of Who Can Knock Over the Trash Bins First?
It started subtly at first. Every trash day, I’d find my bins tipped over, garbage strewn across the pavement. At first, I blamed the wind or a stray animal. But then it happened again. And again. And again.
