"Callie Quinn, you have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be provided for you." The blonde officer cuffed the young teen and escorted her to her police cruiser after neighbors complained about the altercation that had woken them all up in the wee hours of the morning.

"Fuck you, bitch!" Callie tried yanking away from the officer and towards the other teen who was also being cuffed by a middle-aged male officer, yet she was much stronger than was anticipated as she held onto the teens bicep rather hard making her wince out.

"Shit..." she muttered as she was now staggering down the wet sidewalk, her stringy brown hair falling in her face.

"You won't get far if you're defiant, little girl, and I want you to know that especially with me, you won't get very far," Officer Adams Foster flung open the door to her cruiser and pushed Callie's head down to shove her in the back seat. Leaning on the roof, she peered in at the young girl.

"Why are you even out here? Aren't you a little far from home?"

"Fuck you," Callie warbled, high out of her mind. She refused to make eye contact with the officer, but that didn't seem to dissuade her in the least as she continued to pry.

"Ya, how's that working for you? This is what, the third time now I've picked you up?"

Callie shrugged, the defiance as strong as ever as she looked out the opposite window. Who was this woman, and why did she even care? It was true. She had been arrested a few times now, and Robert had come to her rescue several times, paying for the best lawyers and basically making things right, not putting Callie a day behind bars. And of course, Stef had the memory of an elephant, remembering this as it was quite common among the rich in the city. Paying off the right people, their kids could basically go scott-free, able to do whatever the hell they want, when they wanted.

But this time, it wouldn't be that simple. This time, Callie was emancipated, and Stef knew this just by looking at the girl's record. And as the blonde looked in on the teen, much too young to be living on her own, in her opinion, her heart sank. It sank super low because this was the part of the job she hated.

"Well, I wanna say that this time, you won't be so lucky."

Callie finally looked Stef in the eye, her own mascara running down her pale face. She looked much too thin and her face was almost a skeleton. "Whatever, officer," she smirked as Stef finally stood up and patted the top of the cruiser before shutting the door and getting in the driver's seat.

"Have it your way. It won't be pretty for you, that's for sure," she looked through the cage to the young girl who looked even smaller in the back seat, hands cuffed behind her back. "I don't care if you're emancipated. You're going to juvie with girls who are your own age."

"You think I care? Huh? Well, I don't. I don't give a fuck, number one, and number two? I can take care of myself. Did you see the other girl? And look at me! I don't have a damn scratch on me! So fuck off!" Callie defiantly rattled.

All Stef could do at that point was put her key in the ignition and begin to drive, her radio going off with other buzz in the city. Usually kids like this nauseated her. Usually, she felt like they were finally getting what they deserved because they were spoiled and petty. But this time, her heart actually hurt. She hurt for the hurting girl in her back seat. Something deep within her dark brown eyes was screaming for more. She was searching for it in all of the wrong places, that's for sure, yet Stef wished that she could just bring her home with her. Bring her home and heal her broken heart for whatever reason. But it wasn't that simple.

And what baffled Stef even more was the fact that she was emancipated at all. How did this even go through? Being emancipated meant that the child was able to take care of themselves and had a steady income. Being emancipated also meant that the child had a level head on his or her shoulders, able to be on their own and make good decisions. Callie was none of the above from what she witnessed over the course of the last several months. She was just a child who needed guidance, and this time when Stef stood in the courtroom, she'd be sure to look her father right in the eye and let him know.

"No! That was my mother's!" Callie shouted at the heavy-set female guard who was standing in front of her with a light blue bucket.

"You have no choice, missy! All of it, your rings, your earrings, necklace, all of it, and I will certainly take it off of you if you don't comply! You don't want to start your stay here off in this manner, I assure you!"

"Fuck you!" Callie spat out as the middle-aged woman rolled her eyes.

"Ya, ya, you, too. Now you have two seconds to put it in here."

The young teen could only clench her jaw, but as the other guard stepped her way, she finally gave in, undoing her clasp and setting it in the bucket along with the two rings and bracelet she had on her skinny hands.

"Okay, empty your pockets."

After more commands, fingerprinting, squatting, coughing, shivering and shaking, the girl who was super high was coming down more and more, and was struggling to stop her knees from knocking. As she gingerly pulled up her gray sweat pants, she pulled the string as far as it would go around her small waist. Sliding the matching gray sweatshirt over her wet hair, Callie grabbed the white knee socks before stumbling over to the metal stool so she could put them on before her burgundy prison flip-flops.

"Here is your bedding. You'll be sharing a cell with Esmeralda tonight. This here is your hygiene bag. If I were you, I'd label your stuff and keep it near you at all times. You'll be allowed out of your cells at 7 AM. After that, you'll head to breakfast then on to your daily chores. You have to be in the common area at all times unless you're doing your job. If you head back to your cell, you have to let a guard know. You'll be locked in your cell at 9 PM sharp every night, no exceptions, and if you miss curfew? That's a check and after 5 checks, you're slotted in isolation for a week."

The young teen's head was swirling with all of this information as she followed the guard down the cement cell block towards her cell. By the time they reached her cell, she realized that all of the cells were already locked which only meant that it was past 9 PM. Little did Callie know, it was not only past 9 PM, but it was also almost 5 in the morning, and she'd have to get up in two hours whether she liked it or not. One thing was for sure. She was in for a rude awakening.