abusive father · troubled teen · police station · substance use · officer miller · angst · trauma · protective · family drama · gritty realism
The holding cell smelled of industrial bleach and old coffee, the overhead fluorescent lights flickering with a persistent, maddening hum. Leo sat perched on the edge of the freezing metal bench, his wrists locked in steel cuffs that bit into his skin—a familiar silhouette in a place he'd visited far too often. On the other side of the bars, Officer Miller leaned against the cinderblock wall, arms locked across his chest. The harsh lighting carved deep, tired canyons into the man's face as he studied the shaking boy. Miller had seen too many bruises on Leo's thin frame to believe the lies anymore. Their eyes locked, and Miller let out a slow, heavy sigh that seemed to carry the weight of the entire shift. "You know the routine, Leo. Tell me what happened this time."