Living peacefully on Maple Street, I had a handshake agreement with my neighbors, Jim and Susan, to build a fence for privacy. They didn’t contribute but appreciated the arrangement. A year ago, they sold their house to Kayla, a realtor. She had a survey done and claimed my fence encroached nine inches onto her property. With no proof of my agreement, I had to dismantle it. A week later, Kayla, distraught, pleaded for me to rebuild the fence—her dog, Duke, needed it. I refused. Her attempts to contain Duke failed, leading to chaos during a garage sale and the theft of her purse. The neighborhood found it amusing, but Kayla struggled. Desperate, she offered to pay for a new fence, but I stood firm. Eventually, I sold my house and moved, finding peace. Looking back, I realized Kayla pushed me toward a better life—proof that karma works in mysterious ways
