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looking for someone to back him up. Sadie was the only person close enough to do such a thing.
    Margo was still advancing toward Langley, who was looking at her as though she were a crazy woman. Afraid she was going to hurt him, Sadie hurried forward and put a hand on the shovel’s handle. “Margo,” she said in a reassuring tone. “It’s okay.”
    “It’s not okay!” Margo said, rounding on her and causing Sadie to be the one to backpedal. “These are people. They deserve respect!”
    “I know,” Sadie said, putting her palms out in a placating gesture she hoped would calm Margo down. “He’s caught up in the energy, that’s all.” She looked around for Langley, wanting him to confirm her defense, but he had scurried over to join a friend who was digging up another mound. Sadie clenched her teeth as she scanned section three and saw at least a dozen people digging. She hoped Bill got in big trouble for this.
    “It’s not okay,” Margo said again, but with a catch in her throat that drew Sadie’s attention back to her. Tears filled her eyes as she stared down at the sloppy dig marks Langley had left behind. She fell to her knees at the graveside and, with her hands, began pulling at the dirt, gently uncovering a delicate, small human skull, the top crushed.
    The reverence and sorrow of Margo’s movements seemed out of place following her anger with Langley. Sadie knelt down beside her, staring at the eye sockets that had once belonged to someone’s child before looking up at Margo. Silent tears ran down her cheeks as she carefully removed the skull from the ground. There was something more than archeology and respecting this grave behind Margo’s tears.
    “Get me a bag,” Margo said, wiping at her eyes with a dirty hand and leaving tracks across her cheek. She hadn’t put gloves on before extracting the skull. It was against procedure to handle anything without gloves on, but everything happening on the site right now was against procedure.
    Sadie pulled a plastic bag from her pocket and held it out toward Margo.
    “Grid 33,” Margo said, reciting the cataloging information without taking the bag.
    Sadie pulled out her Sharpie and wrote down the grid information, the item description, the date and time, and noted Margo as the digger, then held the bag open so Margo could place the skull inside it. She then reached into her other pocket and handed Margo a pair of vinyl gloves—she always carried extra of everything.
    Margo put the gloves on before carefully picking up every tiny piece of bone broken off by Langley’s shovel and adding it to the bag.
    “I’m not leaving until she’s up,” Margo said quietly, drained, as she went back to digging.
    “Okay,” Sadie whispered back. “I’ll help you.” She looked at the rest of the crew, still digging, and gave up the fight to preserve the crime scene, opting instead to be very clear in her report of what Bill did to create the chaos. That was information the BLM would certainly be interested in.
    Margo continued to cry as she dug out the jaw, and then the clavicle. She moved with incredible efficiency, and Sadie kept up with the labeling and bagging, only stopping once to return to the original grave, now fully uncovered to show the man’s plain blue sweatshirt, to gather Margo’s tools. Then she took a moment to text Pete what had happened.
    When Sadie returned, Margo was brushing away dirt from the exposed pelvis with her gloved fingers—tender and soft as though not wanting to hurt the ancient bones. She was still crying.
    “Margo?” Sadie said, putting the tools down beside her new friend. “Are you okay?”
    “I’m fine,” she said, tears dripping off her face and into the dirt. “I just want her out of the ground. I want to make sure no one hurts her again.”
    “Okay,” Sadie said, removing another bag from her pocket and wondering what was behind the emotion. It was more than this body, Sadie felt sure of that, but Margo