By ten, the last visitor had gone. Marcus checked the repaired lock, made sure the damaged windows were covered, and set a chair beneath the front door handle until a proper repair could be completed. Angela stood in the hallway looking at a photograph of them on their wedding day. In it, Marcus was smiling so broadly that his eyes nearly disappeared, and she was laughing at something only the two of them remembered.
"I kept hearing the way Griggs laughed," she said. "In the cell. Even after I knew you were coming, I kept hearing it."
Marcus came to stand beside her. "I keep hearing your phone drop," he admitted. "I know you were still conscious because the neighbors told me, but for those few seconds I didn't know if he had hurt you badly enough that you couldn't speak."
Neither offered the other an easy reassurance. They had survived too many separations to pretend that fear vanished once danger passed. Marcus held her gently, careful of her shoulder, and they stood together in the quiet house until she said she wanted to sleep. It was the first truly private moment they had been allowed since the arrest.
Sometime after midnight, Angela woke to a pulsing red glow on the bedroom ceiling. At first she thought it was the fractured memory of the previous night invading a dream. Then an engine revved outside, followed by another, and she heard the unmistakable sound of several vehicles coming to a stop. Marcus was already out of bed, looking through a gap in the curtain.
"They're back," he said.
Angela felt the muscles in her stomach tighten. She sat up carefully and reached for her phone, a replacement Marcus had purchased after Holt destroyed the first. The device was charging beside the bed, and she took a moment to make sure its camera could record continuously. Then she heard Holt's voice through the front door, amplified by the quiet street.
"Police! Open up. We have a search warrant for illegal weapons."
Marcus turned toward her. "Stay behind me. We ask to see it, record the interaction, and don't touch anyone."
"I know."
The front door shook under a fist. "Open now or we'll force entry!"
Marcus approached with both hands visible and looked through the side window. Holt stood on the porch with Griggs and four other officers. The captain held a folded document, but his expression suggested the paper mattered less to him than the chance to stand inside the Brooks home again. Marcus opened the door enough to speak and asked to inspect the warrant.
Holt pushed the document toward him. It bore a judge's signature and authorized a search for firearms and related materials allegedly connected to trafficking. Angela read the visible address and time while her camera recorded. She knew that possessing a warrant changed the legal situation, but it did not grant officers permission to destroy belongings unrelated to the stated purpose or use unnecessary force. Whether the affidavit supporting the warrant was truthful would have to be challenged later.