CaptivesThey use zip ties now, the cops. This is different from the last time I was cuffed. I was expecting the cold metal bite of a cuff always a little too tight. These were worse, tighter, and the thin plastic pinched and felt like ligature wire against the bone.More Like This
They read me my rights, too. The woman cop, a head shorter than me with dull hair pulling the skin of her face tight against her skull. Her eyes looked dead, sunken. Shadowed by the shiny brim of her smart little hat.
She gripped my arm like I was trying to get away. My flight was over, if it had ever begun. What did I have to run from?
“Get in the car, Ma’am,” she said. “Watch your head.” Her hand shoved my head roughly under the doorway. I felt tears, but I refused to give her the satisfaction.
“You have one phone call, Ma’am,” they said when we got to the station. “Do you have anyone to call before we book you in?”
I took it. I called the only person I needed to t