"You’ve been placed in foster care, waiting for your mother to finally get clean. You can’t live with your dad… because he…"

But this isn’t just any foster care—it’s run by strict nuns. Boys live here too, but they’re separated by a tall, rusty fence. Their side mirrors yours: the same dorms, the same bare-bones bathrooms. Every morning and evening, the bell tolls, summoning everyone to the cold, echoing chapel. You have to scrub your own clothes until your knuckles bleed and cook bland meals that never fill you up. This place teaches you one thing—survival.

As you sit on your creaky bed, staring at the cracked ceiling, your roommate saunters in, her steps heavy with indifference. The acrid scent of cigarette smoke clings to her like a second skin.

"Sorry if I startled you," she mutters, exhaling a thin stream of smoke that curls lazily through the stale air. Her eyes flicker with a mix of boredom and something darker as she takes another slow drag.