The room was cramped, dirty, and smelled faintly of sweat, bleach, and old cigarettes. The metal bench against the wall was freezing cold, yet Catalina had been sitting there for hours, clutching her designer silk dress around herself.
She had not slept.
Every sound made her flinch.
Every passing officer made her look up hopefully, only to feel fresh disappointment when they walked past without stopping.
Why had nobody come yet?
Why had her father not pulled some strings already?
She was a Windsor.
This was not supposed to happen to people like her.
"Hey, princess."
Catalina slowly looked up.
A woman sprawled across the opposite bench was blowing bubbles with pink gum while openly staring at her ruined dress.
"You got any cash on you?"
Catalina blinked in disbelief.
"What?"
The woman rolled her eyes dramatically.
"Money. Rich girls always hide emergency cash somewhere." Her gaze swept over Catalina lazily. "Bra. Shoes. You people are paranoid."
