What I had done was perfectly legal, and that was the beauty of it. That morning, I called a licensed electrician and had the outdoor outlet beside my garage replaced with a smart, lockable model, one that only powered on with a code from an app on my phone, and one that logged every watt drawn through it. Then I had him install a small, clearly visible weatherproof sign above it: PRIVATE OUTLET. MONITORED AND METERED. AUTHORIZED USE ONLY. I did not warn Bianca. I simply set the outlet to stay off, and I waited on my porch with a cup of tea.

That evening, right on schedule, Bianca backed her Rivian up to my driveway, ran her cable to my outlet, and settled into her car with her phone. Nothing happened. She got out, jiggled the plug, checked her charging screen, and jabbed at the outlet. Still nothing. Then she noticed the sign. And then, because she pushed the reset button one too many times in frustration, the outlet’s tamper alarm went off, a shrill electronic shriek loud enough to wake the block. She screamed, and doors opened up and down the street as neighbors spilled out to see what was happening.