Your case file is 590 pages long. It contains 165,487 words. That is roughly the same number of words as an entire English dictionary, cover to cover.

We read every single page. We looked at every entry, every note, every activity logged over 2.5 years. And we separated what was written by a person from what was generated by a computer.

In the entire file, Paul Lovato wrote two sentences about your home. Two. In two and a half years. Everything else — every one of those 590 pages — was produced by the city's software on autopilot.

Twenty-two city employees are listed on your case. Nineteen of them never wrote a single original word. The three who did — combined — wrote less than you'd put in a text message.

Two sentences in two and a half years. That is what protection looked like.

We then ran the same analysis on 24 of Paul's other cases. On those, he wrote real notes — descriptions of what he saw, who he talked to, what he did. He wrote more about a routine plumbing permit than he wrote about your home in 2.5 years. Your case — the longest and most expensive one in his entire workload — got the least attention of any of them.

A dictionary contains 165,000 words. Your case file contains 165,487. They are the same size. If you opened that dictionary and found one single entry — one word and its definition — that is how much human work exists in your entire case file.