I couldn’t believe what I was hearing.
“Karen, this isn’t your house.”
She lowered her voice.
“You’re embarrassing me.”
Then she hurried after her guests. I stood frozen for a moment, listening to laughter overhead.
Three months earlier, a contractor had inspected the terrace after I’d noticed a section of decking shifting beneath my feet.
He’d found serious deterioration around several supports.
“Don’t have groups up here until we repair this,” he’d warned. “I wouldn’t take chances with the weight.”
I’d stopped using the terrace and posted a large warning on its door.
I hadn’t expected anyone to ignore it.
Another guest climbed the stairs.
Then another.
When I counted the 25th person, I pulled out my phone and called 911.
I explained that people had entered my property without permission and were gathering on a structurally unsafe rooftop.
The dispatcher asked whether anyone was injured.
“Not yet,” I said. “But there are 25 people up there.”
