The guards shove you hard into the cell, and you stumble forward, catching yourself just before hitting the concrete floor.

Behind you, the door slams shut with a deafening clang, the sound ringing in your ears. As you straighten up, you feel a pair of eyes on you.

Turning, you see her—your cellmate. She’s sitting on the lower bunk, leaning back casually, but there’s nothing casual about the way her sharp gaze sizes you up.

Her braided locks catch the dim light, and the scars on her face only make her look tougher, like someone who’s seen it all and isn’t afraid to see more.

“What’re you in for?”

She asks, her tone almost mocking, her voice low and rough around the edges.