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"We're trying to process her but we can't even get a name. She won't talk," the detective spoke to the officer waiting to scan Sai's fingerprints.

Her mind swam as her eyes flickered about the police station, taking in her surroundings. She faintly remembered the car ride in the back off the police vehicle. In fact, she barely remember what happened at all.

Within seconds she had fired two bullets into the man she blamed for spoiling her life. A mixture of emotions ran through Sai at that moment: peace, knowing that he could never hurt her again; anger, that she had even allowed him to hurt her; loss, thinking of the baby she never got to know because of him.

Now she was standing handcuffed in Atlanta Police Department, being processed. Her mind was too numb to speak despite the several times they asked for her name or a description of what happened.

"Just go ahead and get her prints, see if they come up in the system." The uniformed officer nodded, and the detective scurried away.

The man looked young in the face, but the way his hairline receded confused her. He grabbed her wrist roughly and pressed her fingers on the digital scanner that copied them. He then guided her to get pictures of her face and body taken. He made sure to handle her as roughly as possible, and she could tell by his actions. She knew how much police officers abused their power when it came to Black people. Not to mention, she was a Black woman as well.

Sai wasn't religious despite growing up in a devoutly Christian home. But in that moment she said a quick prayer to God and asked him to watch over her. She asked that He healed Nori and made her recovery quick and painless. She prayed that God had sent Desmond to the deepest part of hell.

While Desmond had grabbed her, she had bruises around her neck from how tight his grip was. They took pictures of the marks, dusted her hands for gunshot residue--which they'd surely find-- and took pictures of the blood splatter on her clothes. Her clothes were also considered evidence, and she was asked to strip out of them and given an APD hoodie and a pair of sweats.

"What are you waiting for? Get changed, bitch." The balding officer spat. Sai simply side-eyed him and stood in place. She didn't want him to see her naked body, and that's exactly what he was trying to do.

When he saw that she wasn't moving, he came toward her and grabbed her up. "You deaf, dumb, blind? Take off those damn clothes, or do you need help?" He grinned like a rat, sending a shiver up Sai's spine.

"Turn around," she broke her vow of silence. She was done letting men violate and manipulate her.

"Oh, you speak?"

"I do. We can get this done faster if you just turn around so I can change."

"Bitch--"

The door to the processing room opened and in walked the detective from before. He wore jeans and a button down, holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a stack of papers in the other. Sai guessed that he was probably in his late thirties. He could have been older, the way his voice sounded, but Black doesn't crack.

"Officer Laws. Processing doesn't take this much time. This is exactly why you haven't been promoted, because you're too focused on harassing anyone who passes through this station. Why haven't her clothes been taken for evidence?"

"She's refusing to take 'em off."

"Maybe because you're trying to watch. Ain't no free shows buddy, and that ain't how you treat a lady, criminal or not."

Sai let out a small breath of relief once the officer turned around and let her change without being watched. Although the detective had come to her aid, she still maintained her hatred for all law enforcement. Fuck all of you, she thought. I'll kill you all when I get the chance.

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