The older woman brought lemonade.
They watched the sunset settle over Willow Street.
For several minutes, neither spoke.
Then Margaret asked whether Talia regretted returning to the house.
Talia looked toward the rose garden.
For a moment, she considered the question.
Margaret smiled faintly.
"Even after what happened?"
"Especially after what happened."
The older woman looked surprised.
Talia continued.
"My mother spent thirty-eight years making this place beautiful. I don't want the last chapter of that work to be a police officer kicking flowers."
Margaret's eyes filled.
She reached for Talia's hand.
And for several seconds, they sat together in silence.
The first public hearing concerning the city's visibility program took place six weeks after the incident.
The municipal council had received complaints from residents, requests for information from auditors, and growing questions about Greenway's contracts.
The meeting room was crowded.
Elderly homeowners sat beside younger families.
Several carried photographs of damaged gardens.
Others brought billing statements and code notices.
A local reporter named Hannah Lewis attended with a notebook and recording equipment.
She'd been investigating the program since Talia's arrest went viral.
But her reporting focused less on the woman's official title and more on the records suggesting a broader problem.
Hannah had interviewed Ruth Daniels.
And several other residents.
She discovered that some people paid thousands of dollars because they feared additional charges or police involvement.
Others lost landscaping that had existed for decades.
And several couldn't obtain clear explanations of the alleged violations.
The council began with a presentation from the municipal administrator's office.
Thomas Bell described the initiative as an important public safety program.
He emphasized its purpose.
Clear sidewalks.
Improved visibility.
And safer neighborhoods.
Those goals were reasonable.
But when the public comment period began, the room's atmosphere changed.
Ruth Daniels approached the microphone.
She carried a photograph of the shrubs that had once grown beside her porch.
Her hands trembled.
For a moment, she seemed frightened.
Then she looked toward the council.
"I've lived in this town forty-three years."
The room became quiet.
"I've paid my taxes. Kept my property clean. And tried to be a good neighbor."
Her voice shook.
"Then somebody told me my flowers were dangerous, and a police officer threatened to arrest me when I asked why."
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Ruth held up the photograph.
"I don't want special treatment."
"I just want someone to explain what was wrong."
The room erupted in applause.
Julian spoke next.
He described the fence.
And the visit from Mercer.
Then he explained how frightened his children became when the deputy threatened to arrest him.
A council member asked whether Julian had received a written final decision on his appeal.
He shook his head.
Another member asked whether the contractor had already been scheduled before the appeal deadline.
"That's what the records show."
Several people in the audience began murmuring.
Then Margaret Ellis approached the microphone.
She was seventy-four.
Her silver hair was carefully styled, and she held the same folder she'd shown Talia on the morning of the arrest.
Margaret explained that she'd paid to remove hedges despite believing they didn't obstruct the sidewalk.
Then she looked toward the council.