But mail theft?
That wasn’t annoying.
That was war.
And the thing about war is, once you realize you’re in it, you either fight smart—or you lose everything you didn’t know could be taken.
This story is based closely on the transcript you provided.
Who I Am Before I Tell You What She Did
My name is Broderick Callahan.
“Brod” to anyone who actually likes me.
Mid-fifties. Former union electrician. These days I run my own electrical contracting business out of my house—small, steady, honest work. Panel upgrades, remodel wiring, troubleshooting that makes younger guys want to cry. The kind of work where your reputation matters more than your logo.
I’ve lived in Sycamore Creek Estates for eleven years. I raised my daughter here after my divorce. Coached Little League for four seasons straight. Shoveled my elderly neighbor’s driveway every winter without being asked once.
Mrs. Ketterer is eighty-one years old, five feet tall, and sharper than most people half her age. She never had to ask for help, but I did it anyway because that’s what neighbors do when they’re decent.
