of the central precinct. The heavy door was yanked open, and the arresting officer hauled me out by the bicep.
The transition from the freezing night air to the suffocating, heavily air-conditioned atmosphere of the precinct was jarring.
The air smelled of stale coffee, industrial floor bleach, and the sharp metallic tang of adrenaline and sweat.
I was marched through the chaotic bullpen. Phones were ringing off the hook, keyboards were clattering, and uniformed officers were shouting over the din.
None of them looked at me with curiosity.
To them,
