Stevie-lou's POV.

I woke up to the sound of keys rattling.

For a second, I didn’t know where I was. The metal bench beneath me, the sour smell of bleach and something sharp in the air, the weight in my chest, it all felt like part of some half-formed nightmare. My wrists were sore from the cuffs, and my back ached from trying to sleep sitting up.

The cell door creaked open.

“Let’s go,” a voice said.

I blinked at the officer standing in front of me. He looked tired. Mid-thirties, beard growing out in patches, dark circles under his eyes like he hadn’t slept either. I opened my mouth...