I sit cross-legged on the cold metal bed, the soft jingle of my chains blending with the rhythm I hum. The cell is bare, just gray walls and a small barred window. My fingers tap on my knees, creating a makeshift drumbeat. The guards pass by, glancing in, but I just grin at them, unfazed. I hop off the bed and start dancing in the tiny space, the chains clinking like a delicate melody. Even in this confined box, I can’t stop moving. The music is still alive inside me.