"We do not consent to any search beyond the warrant's scope," Marcus said. "We will not interfere. Please identify the officers entering and preserve all recordings."
Holt's lip curled. "You two rehearsed that? Step aside."
The officers moved through the living room in heavy boots. One pulled cushions from the sofa and another opened the shelves where Angela kept medical texts. Cabinet doors slammed in the kitchen as utensils and food containers spilled onto the floor. Angela filmed from a clear distance, making sure the officers could see exactly what she was doing.
Griggs noticed the phone. "Turn that off."
"I'm standing back and documenting what happens in my house," she replied. "I'm not obstructing your search."
He took a step toward her, but Holt ordered him to inspect the living room. Griggs redirected his attention to the glass cabinet Marcus had built for Angela's service medals. Inside were photographs of her Army medical unit, framed commendations, and the small objects she had brought home when friends did not. There was also a folded letter from a soldier's mother, thanking Angela for helping her son survive an evacuation.
"That case has no room for what you're looking for without being plainly visible," Marcus said. "Please be careful with it."
"Move," Griggs replied.
Marcus stepped aside, but Griggs caught his shoulder in passing and shoved harder than the space required. Marcus reflexively raised an arm between them, avoiding a blow while keeping his hand open. Griggs immediately shouted that he was resisting, and two officers forced Marcus against the wall. Angela called out that he had not struck anyone, her phone capturing the entire exchange.
"Hands behind your back," one officer ordered.
"I'm not resisting," Marcus said. "I've moved out of your way."
The officers held him in place while Griggs pulled the display cabinet open. Its door slammed against the floor, the glass broke, and several medals scattered across the carpet. He pushed the remaining contents aside with his boot, sending a framed photograph of Angela's unit beneath a chair. The soldier's mother's letter fell face down beside the broken glass.
Angela felt something inside her go still. She had been able to endure attacks on her own dignity by concentrating on surviving them. Watching Griggs treat the memories of people who had trusted her with their lives as meaningless clutter was different. She nearly moved forward, and Marcus caught her eye from across the room.
"Angie," he said softly, "keep recording."
She stayed where she was. Griggs glanced up, perhaps disappointed that he had not provoked the confrontation he wanted. Angela focused the camera on his nameplate, then on the pieces lying on the floor. Her hands shook, but the recording remained clear.