Chapter 3 · When Neighbors Crossed The Line

If I argued in the group, I would look just as rude as Tiffany did.

If I gave in now, they would only push further.

I took a deep breath and forced my fingers to stop shaking.

Then I opened the voice recorder app.

When they had been standing at my door earlier, my hand had been in my pocket.

Pressing record had been instinct. Now, that small habit mattered.

I converted the recording into text, pulled up the photo I had taken through the peephole when they blocked my door, and organized everything carefully.

Then I typed my first message in the group: [Hello, everyone. I'm Belle White, the owner of 1702.]

The chat went quiet right away.

It felt like everyone was waiting.

I didn't rush to explain. I sent the photo first.

It showed Tiffany pointing her finger at me, trying to push her way inside.

The angle was clear, capturing her pushy attitude and my refusal to budge.

Then I started typing: [I have a few responses to the statements made by Mrs. Shelton from 1802.

[First, at 9:10 this morning, Mrs. Shelton and her husband blocked my door.

[Second, she asked me to pay 100 thousand dollars toward their home loan.

[Third, her reason was that she bought her apartment at a high price and lost money. She said I bought mine in cash at a lower price, so I made a profit. Therefore, she believes I should compensate her for her loss.

[Fourth, after I refused, Mrs. Shelton insulted me and attempted to force her way into my home. I have both photo and audio evidence.

[Fifth, I told them I would call the police if they continued to harass me. That is not a threat. That is self-defense.]

After that, I pasted the key parts of the recording.

"Since you benefited, you should compensate those of us who lost money.

"100 thousand dollars isn't much for someone like you, right?

"If you don't, we'll sit right outside your door every single day."

I didn't add anything else. Evidence always speaks louder than words.

The group fell into complete silence.

The people who had been backing Tiffany disappeared one by one.

A full minute passed before anyone said anything. Finally, someone spoke up carefully.

[This is insane.]

[This is basically robbery.]

[You lose money and expect your neighbor to pay you back, huh? What kind of logic is that?]

[Good thing the owner of 1702 recorded everything, or she'd have no way to prove the truth.]

Just like that, the mood shifted.

Tiffany's profile went dark in the chat.

She probably hadn't expected me to have proof. Now she had nothing to say.

Then someone named "Property Manager Danny May" stepped in. [To the owner of 1802, it's important for neighbors to get along. Our community rules strictly forbid harassment or demanding money from others.

[If this happens again, we will report it to the community office and the police. Please think twice.]

That message ended it.

The whole thing was over, and I had won.

I turned off my phone and leaned back. I felt drained.

But underneath that, there was a quiet sense of relief.

I knew this wasn't really the end. People like Tiffany didn't give up easily.

But at least now, they knew I wasn't someone they could push around.

After dinner, I stood on the balcony, letting the evening breeze cool me down.

Then the doorbell rang again.

My heart skipped a beat as I walked over and peeked through the peephole.

There was a young man standing at my door.

He looked like he was in his early twenties. He wore glasses and had a gentle, polite look. There was a bag of fruit in his hand.

I didn't recognize him, but he didn't seem dangerous.

I paused for a second, then opened the door.

"Hi, who are you looking for?" I asked.

He gave me an apologetic smile when he saw me.

"Hi, are you Belle?" he asked. "I'm Jeremy Shelton. I live across the hall. I'm Rocky and Tiffany's son. I came to apologize for my parents."

Jeremy looked nothing like Tiffany or Rocky.

His features were clean and calm, and there was something about him that felt educated and steady.

The apology on his face was real, almost humble.

It made the tension in my chest loosen a little, but only a little.

"Belle, I'm truly sorry. I know everything my parents did today," he said. "I saw the evidence you posted in the owners' group. They went too far. I came to apologize on their behalf."

As he spoke, he gave me a deep bow.

His attitude was so sincere that I could not just shut the door in his face.

Chapter 3

If I argued in the group, I would look just as rude as Tiffany did.

If I gave in now, they would only push further.

I took a deep breath and forced my fingers to stop shaking.

Then I opened the voice recorder app.

When they had been standing at my door earlier, my hand had been in my pocket.

Pressing record had been instinct. Now, that small habit mattered.

I converted the recording into text, pulled up the photo I had taken through the peephole when they blocked my door, and organized everything carefully.

Then I typed my first message in the group: [Hello, everyone. I'm Belle White, the owner of 1702.]

The chat went quiet right away.

It felt like everyone was waiting.

I didn't rush to explain. I sent the photo first.

It showed Tiffany pointing her finger at me, trying to push her way inside.

The angle was clear, capturing her pushy attitude and my refusal to budge.

Then I started typing: [I have a few responses to the statements made by Mrs. Shelton from 1802.

[First, at 9:10 this morning, Mrs. Shelton and her husband blocked my door.

[Second, she asked me to pay 100 thousand dollars toward their home loan.

[Fourth, after I refused, Mrs. Shelton insulted me and attempted to force her way into my home. I have both photo and audio evidence.

[Fifth, I told them I would call the police if they continued to harass me. That is not a threat. That is self-defense.]

After that, I pasted the key parts of the recording.

"Since you benefited, you should compensate those of us who lost money.

"100 thousand dollars isn't much for someone like you, right?

"If you don't, we'll sit right outside your door every single day."

I didn't add anything else. Evidence always speaks louder than words.

The group fell into complete silence.

The people who had been backing Tiffany disappeared one by one.

A full minute passed before anyone said anything. Finally, someone spoke up carefully.

[This is insane.]

[This is basically robbery.]

[You lose money and expect your neighbor to pay you back, huh? What kind of logic is that?]

[Good thing the owner of 1702 recorded everything, or she'd have no way to prove the truth.]

Just like that, the mood shifted.

Tiffany's profile went dark in the chat.

She probably hadn't expected me to have proof. Now she had nothing to say.

[If this happens again, we will report it to the community office and the police. Please think twice.]

That message ended it.

The whole thing was over, and I had won.

I turned off my phone and leaned back. I felt drained.

But underneath that, there was a quiet sense of relief.

I knew this wasn't really the end. People like Tiffany didn't give up easily.

But at least now, they knew I wasn't someone they could push around.

After dinner, I stood on the balcony, letting the evening breeze cool me down.

Then the doorbell rang again.

My heart skipped a beat as I walked over and peeked through the peephole.

There was a young man standing at my door.

He looked like he was in his early twenties. He wore glasses and had a gentle, polite look. There was a bag of fruit in his hand.

I didn't recognize him, but he didn't seem dangerous.

I paused for a second, then opened the door.

"Hi, who are you looking for?" I asked.

He gave me an apologetic smile when he saw me.

"Hi, are you Belle?" he asked. "I'm Jeremy Shelton. I live across the hall. I'm Rocky and Tiffany's son. I came to apologize for my parents."

Jeremy looked nothing like Tiffany or Rocky.

His features were clean and calm, and there was something about him that felt educated and steady.

The apology on his face was real, almost humble.

It made the tension in my chest loosen a little, but only a little.

"Belle, I'm truly sorry. I know everything my parents did today," he said. "I saw the evidence you posted in the owners' group. They went too far. I came to apologize on their behalf."

As he spoke, he gave me a deep bow.

His attitude was so sincere that I could not just shut the door in his face.