"John Finch, cut the power to every charger at Yuxin International Residences. Right now."
"Double pay for the holiday—get a crew over there and start pulling them out."
Cedric squinted at me, lip curled in a sneer.
"Ha! Big talk from a nobody. Cutting power, ripping things out—that's not your goddamn call."
Manager Fox watched me, perfectly calm.
"Ms. Dickerson, the moment those chargers were installed on complex property, they became complex assets. You have no right to do this."
"Go through with it, and I'll have the whole complex sue you."
I barely looked up.
"I paid for them. My parents can't use them. So I'm tearing them out. Sue me all you want."
My mother tugged at my sleeve. "Shelagh, just let it go. Those chargers cost a fortune to install. Ripping them out is just throwing money away."
I took her hand and gently rubbed her swollen wrist.
"Then it's a waste. I'll sell them for scrap iron before I let a single one of these lowlifes charge so much as a scooter."
John moved fast. All around the complex, chargers chimed as they shut down—one after another.
The residents' group chat lit up.
"What's going on? The chargers just went dead. @PropertyManagement, explain?"
"Something's off. I thought they were here to fix them. Why are they dismantling?"
A resident from Building 11 near the east gate posted several photos.
Workers with tools had already started pulling apart the chargers at the base of Building 11.
"@PropertyManagement, have you lost your minds? They were working fine. Why are they being torn out?"
"We pay property fees for this place—who the hell told you to rip them out?"
Fox lifted his phone, aimed it at me, and snapped a few shots.
"Everyone—the owner of Unit 508, Building 4 is making a scene and demanding the chargers be torn out. This has nothing to do with management."
His message landed and my phone wouldn't stop buzzing. Tags piled up faster than I could scroll—dozens of residents, all demanding answers.
I stared at the flood of notifications.
Then I dropped two things into the chat: the video of Manager Fox making his promises the day the chargers went live, and the audio from minutes ago—Cedric beating my parents while the manager pressured me to apologize.
"I paid for the chargers out of my own pocket. My parents were beaten, and management refused to do anything about it. So I'm pulling every last one."
I thought at least someone would back me up.
Every last one of these ingrates turned on me instead.
"Why should your parents get special treatment? Didn't you hear the manager? Once chargers are on complex land, they belong to the complex."
"I know her parents. They ride that beat-up electric tricycle to sell vegetables every day and hog the best charging spot under Building 4. Won't let anyone else near it."
"That guy's right. He stood up for all of us. We should be backing him."
Manager Fox watched the screen fill with voices cheering him on.
"See that, Ms. Dickerson? Every resident in this complex is saying the same thing. You installed them, sure—but they're complex property now. You don't get to tear them down."
"Your parents have had free charging here for a long time. Most people would call that generous enough. Maybe try being grateful."
Grateful?
These people couldn't see a thing I'd given them.
Couldn't see a thing my parents had suffered.
Grateful. They could choke on their gratitude.
My phone rang.
"Boss Dickerson, we're at Building 11—someone's trying to stop us. They're saying they'll call the police."
I could hear the hesitation in his voice.
I didn't waver for a second. "Keep dismantling. If anything happens, it's on me."
Five minutes after I hung up, photos started trickling in from residents across different buildings.
"@PropertyManagement, stop playing dead! If you don't do something, they'll have every charger out!"
Fox's composure cracked the instant he realized I wasn't bluffing.
He pulled out his phone and punched 1-1-0 into the dial pad, holding it up so I could see.
"Shelagh Dickerson, call off your people. Now. Or I'm making the call."
