night agents came for Becca, neighbors say the house was quiet. No shouting, no struggle—just the soft thud of a door closing and the car pulling away with

a woman who had already lost everything. Hours earlier, she’d been planning another vigil for Renee. By morning, she was a federal defendant, her love story recast as a threat to the state.

court, her supporters whisper that this is punishment for refusing to look away—for filming, for speaking, for insisting that Renee’s last words and slow-moving car mattered. Federal officials call it law and order; her lawyer

s call it retaliation. Somewhere between those stories lives a country deciding what kind of power it’s willing to accept. Renee is gone. Becca waits in a cell. And the videos that survived them both refuse to go qui. READ MORE BELOW