Donna leaned back. "Helpless enough to spend forty-three minutes screaming at a machine while refusing to press the large red stop button labeled Emergency Dock Return?"
Silence. The mediator coughed delicately.
Mitchell regrouped. "The issue, Your Honor—"
"Not a judge," the mediator interrupted.
"The mediator," he corrected, forcing a smile, "is that Mr. Reed intentionally designed a dangerous device and used it to inflict emotional harm."
Donna opened her second folder. "This is the owner's manual for Ghost. Every safety protocol documented, every feature within Coast Guard compliance. She even had a life jacket on board, size medium. I believe that fits Ms. Campbell."
Skyler flinched.
Donna wasn't done. She produced more documents: the county parcel map showing my property line outside the HOA boundary, my purchase deed, the sheriff's incident report, and the pièce de résistance—a printed transcript of the HOA bylaws.
"Section 4, Subsection B," Donna read aloud, "states that the HOA's jurisdiction applies only to lots explicitly registered within Lakeview Serenity. Lot 91, Benjamin Reed's property, is listed as independent, non-HOA land, meaning you have about as much authority there as over the moon."
Mitchell tried to object, but had nothing.
Donna leaned forward, voice calm. "My client has tolerated repeated trespassing, harassment, and attempted use of private assets. The fact that he responded with a non-lethal, automated deterrent instead of, say, a police report for grand theft should be considered generosity."
The mediator nodded slowly. "So, Mr. Green, are you maintaining your complaint?"
Mitchell glanced at Skyler. She stared back, jaw trembling, then whispered, "Yes."
"Very well," Donna said sweetly. "Then we'll be seeking counterclaims for trespass, attempted theft, and defamation based on the HOA's social media post."
Skyler blinked. "You can't prove that was me!"