He filed a claim: “Accidental damage – broken window.”
Leo hadn’t meant to throw it inside. He’d just been fiddling, tossing it an inch into the air, trying to find the sweet spot. Then his phone buzzed—a text from his ex-girlfriend with a photo of her smiling next to some guy on a boat. Frustration flared. He wound up and fired the ball not at the wall, but through it. renters insurance broken window
That night, he opened the CoverHive app and raised his liability coverage to $300,000. He also read the entire policy, line by boring line. He learned what was covered (his laptop, his clothes, his couch, if a fire took them) and what wasn’t (floods, earthquakes, and his own stupidity with a baseball). He filed a claim: “Accidental damage – broken window
Mr. Gable pulled a small notepad from his shirt pocket. “I’ll have a quote by tomorrow. But my guess? With installation? Twelve hundred dollars.” Frustration flared
That night, he called his mom. She listened to the whole sorry tale—the glove, the ex, the window—and then said the words he dreaded: “Didn’t you get the renters insurance I told you about?”
“Leo,” he said, peering at the window. “That’s a double-pane, argon-filled, custom-size unit. Original to the building, 1927.”