His was on too.
Three cameras.
Three men.
One ruined night for them.
Kessler hauled her off the bed.
“Move.”
Claire stood, barefoot on splintered wood, and felt one sharp piece catch under her heel. She didn’t flinch.
Her living room looked worse than the bedroom.
The front door hung half off one hinge. Couch cushions were on the floor. Kitchen drawers had been dumped. A bowl lay shattered by the breakfast counter. Papers from a file box had been kicked across the rug.
File pages.
Case notes.
Names.
Internal disciplinary summaries she had brought home to review after hours.
Kessler stepped on one without noticing.
Claire noticed.
She noticed everything.
As they led her past the broken doorway, she spoke clearly toward the body cameras.
“I did not consent to this search. I requested a warrant. I requested officer identification. I am stating for the record that the evidence presented against me was planted.”
