CHANNILLO

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"Send in the next one." A deep voice says from behind a heavy iron door at the other end of the empty holding cell.

A tall man in a dark suit beckons me from behind sunglasses with a crook of his finger, "You. You're next. Let's go."

I stand, my knees knocking together audibly. The man in the suit must've noticed because he looks down his nose at me and smiles.

"Hurry up, princess."

I hardly feel like a princess; I am covered in grime under my rough clothes, and my hair probably has more lice than the rats in my cell. I lower my gaze and start towards the anteroom. I am most of the way into the dimly lit room when the man in the suit shoves me, and I stumble into the counter before landing on my knees on the floor. He slams the door...

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