At 7:12 on a warm Thursday morning, Elena Ruiz stood in the middle of her driveway in Pasadena, staring at a mountain of broken plaster, splintered cabinets, and old carpet that seemed to have grown overnight. Her family’s kitchen renovation was nearly finished. The demolition, unfortunately, had only just begun.
A delivery truck rumbled along the street, and somewhere beyond the jacaranda trees a gardener’s leaf blower buzzed to life. Elena looked from the debris to the narrow driveway, then at the clock. The contractor was due in an hour.
