Marcus gently asked for permission to take the phone. She nodded. He ended the recording and set it down where she could see it, then began gathering the photographs from the broken display case. His careful hands were almost too much to watch. The medals and pictures meant many things to Angela, but none of them should have needed rescuing from a police search for imaginary crates.
"They're going to get away with it," she said. The words startled her because she had spent the entire evening refusing to surrender to that fear. "We had video the first time. We had a lawyer. We had witnesses. And he came back with a piece of paper that let him do all of this."
Marcus sat beside her on the carpet. He did not tell her the law would save them. He had seen enough of the night to know a promise like that would sound hollow.
Instead he said, "I don't know what happens next. I know we're going to document the damage before we clean it. I know Diana needs to see the warrant. And I know I am not leaving you alone with this."
Angela looked at the scratches across her medal and finally began to cry. She hated that the tears came after the officers left, when there was no immediate danger to resist. Marcus told her there was nothing wrong with being frightened in a home that had just been invaded. She allowed herself to lean against him while the street outside returned to ordinary darkness.
In the morning the damage looked worse. Daylight exposed a cracked window frame, gouges in the flooring, ruined upholstery, and scratches across the wooden door that had been repaired only hours before the search. Angela tried to make coffee and found the filter box open on the floor, its contents mixed with broken glass. She stood holding a broom, unable to decide which room deserved attention first.
Diana arrived with a photographer and a building-restoration assessor. They documented each damaged item and distinguished between destruction caused during the first search and destruction caused under the second warrant. She requested the underlying warrant affidavit and asked the issuing court to preserve its filing history. An independent doctor examined Angela's shoulder and wrist injuries that afternoon, and Marcus finally sought treatment for the bruises on his upper arm.
The assessor gave them a preliminary damage estimate, not because money could repair what they felt but because any eventual claim would need a credible record. He photographed the hinges, the ruined display case, the damaged flooring, and the personal possessions that could be repaired or replaced. He explained which items had obvious market values and which, like a box of deployment letters, could never be made whole by a receipt.
Angela remembered the officers stepping over broken glass without hesitation. She had been proud of how steady she sounded while they were there. Now a stranger quietly measuring damage in her living room made her feel exposed. She went into the kitchen and stood by the sink until her breathing slowed.