The technician had come because my electrician reported voltage fluctuations. He found heat damage inside the porch circuit, likely caused by sustained charging through wiring never designed for that load. The insulation had begun to discolor. Another month could have created a fire risk inside the wall. Celia sat on my steps while he disconnected the circuit. Her offer of forty dollars suddenly seemed painfully small, and my earlier hesitation about the locked cover vanished.

My insurer required a licensed repair and photographs before the circuit could be restored. Celia offered to pay the full estimate, then admitted she could not do so immediately. I asked for a written repayment schedule. She flinched at the formality but agreed. Marcus offered his first apprenticeship wages. I refused his money because the agreement had been between homeowners, not between me and a teenager carrying everyone else's urgency.

The electrical contractor proposed a safer alternative: upgrade both houses through a neighborhood energy rebate and install separate metered chargers near the shared property line. The rebate application closed Friday and required both owners' tax records. Celia disliked exposing her finances. I disliked signing a joint project with someone who had used my outlet secretly. We sat at my kitchen table listing risks instead of pretending trust had already returned.

We applied with separate contracts, separate meters, and no shared liability. Until construction, Celia rented a charging space from a grocery store employee three blocks away. Marcus biked to his apprenticeship after he got the position. I replaced my porch circuit and kept the outlet cover locked. A week later, a realtor left a card in my mailbox offering a quick sale. The price was more than I had paid, and for the first time I considered leaving Alder Street before it could disappoint me again.