. I was a ghost in this polished cage, a former bartender now a prisoner, all beca

n my knees, a command, not a request, then threatened my sic

burning in my gut as he watched with cold satisfaction

Harrison' s voice cut through the air: "Don'

, followed by a kick to the ribs that stole my breath,

ent filling my senses, telling me I was resilient, "Just l

aching, but under the pain,

bathroom, seeing a stranger with

t he coul

only shown me what I