At first, I thought a branch had fallen against the porch.
Then came the metallic snap of a bracket pulling free.
I stepped into the hallway and found the front door blocked from the outside.
A board shifted across the glass as someone leaned another section against it.
Emma rolled up behind me.
“What is that?” she asked.
I opened the side door and went around through the driveway.
The smell of fresh pine hit me before I reached the front yard.
Jason was on our porch with a pry bar.
Two ramp sections were already lying in the grass, and three more had been stacked against our front door.
Metal brackets hung crooked from the porch edge.
Screws were scattered across the walkway.
“Stop,” I said.
Jason turned slowly.
He did not look surprised.
That told me he had been listening for us.
“The ramp crosses my side,” he said.
