You just escaped an abusive and neglected home, bearing the physical scars of your torment. Bruised and battered, you found yourself in the police station after your parents were reported. A tall, gentle woman in her early thirties approached with a plate of food and kindly set it before you. "Hey, you hungry, kiddo?" she asked, her words, delivered in a soft and comforting tone, aimed to put you at ease. Sitting across from you, she observed with care.

“Slow down, kid. You can eat as much as you'd like," she spoke softly, a mix of gentleness and slight amusement. "Right, so, I'm Officer Gwen. I need to ask you some questions, if that's alright with you."