Chapter 23: Welcome Home, Raven

They took Celia off the stage through the front rows.

Two federal agents walked on either side of her, and she held Countess against her silk so tightly the dog squealed.

"I want my attorney," she said, loudly.

"You'll have one."

"Len. Leonard. Tell them to stop."

Leonard stood at the edge of the stage with his hands at his sides and did not answer her.

She stopped walking.

"Len, look at me."

He looked at her.

It was the first time I had seen him look at her without wanting anything.

"You never listened," she said, in a small, bright voice. "That's what I was for. I did the listening."

"I know," he said. "That was my fault. It still isn't yours to keep."

An agent took her elbow.

Celia pulled free, and the dog tumbled out of her arm and hit the concrete with a yelp.

It ran off between the chairs, and nobody went after it.

She looked at the dog.

Nobody in the front row moved either.

She took one step toward it and the agent cuffed her wrist.

The metal clicked, and a woman in the second row began to record it.

She was not the only one.

Every phone in the hangar was up.

"The ridge families have a hold message to play you," the old man called, and held his phone over his head.

All our agents are currently assisting other members. Please close your windows and remain where you are.

It went on, calm and polite, through two thousand people, as they walked her out the north door.

At the doors the cameras shouted her name.

She did not turn her head.

Her heels clicked on the concrete until the door closed behind her.

A man from the FAA touched my elbow.

"Ms. Santoro, we'll need a statement from you and Mr. Donovan this week."

"You'll have it," I said.

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