Handcuffs dug into my wrists as guards dragged me into the security room, beneath the buzz of annoying overhead lights.“Sit,” one of them barked, shoving me into a plastic chair.They took my fingerprints, but nothing popped up. Alistair had already scrubbed me from the system.“A stray,” the younger guard muttered. “Lock her up.”The holding cell was freezing. I spent the night on a hard metal bench, shivering beside a passed-out woman and another who stared blankly at the wall. No food, no blankets—just the smell of piss and vomit.By the next evening, they let me go with a warning and some random, stained clothes from the lost-and-found.“Stay out of trouble,” the officer said, kicking me out into the night.⏾⋆.˚The rundown district was merciless.Hours of walking in a thin hoodie and bare feet left me freezing and bruised. I was starving, stripped of everything—no cash, no phone, nothing.The first night, I huddled behind a dumpster under cardboard boxes, jolting awake at every s
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