*Callie (present day)*

After about a week here in the slammer, I'm ready to be out. Not only am I going through horrible withdrawal, but also, my cell-mate has it out for me, trying to cause me even more grief than anyone ever has. I have no idea why she hates me so damn much, but she does. The nausea is unbelievable, and my skin itches so fucking much, I'm embarrassed to be out with everyone even if it is in the rules.

"Please, just let me lay down! I can't sit here with everyone!" I moan out to one of the male guards who seems as if he is newer. I have no clue if he is, but I do know that he seems a bit green around the ears. And this time, I'm not trying to trick or swindle anyone. This is as real as I can possibly get.

He looks around as he pulls on his belt. "Listen, I'm not supposed to..."

"Awww, c'mon!"I cry quietly. My stringy hair is now tied back in a ponytail out of my face, but my eyes are bloodshot, and the paleness of my skin has to give away just how sick I am.

Sighing, he motions me to follow him, and I do as fast as I possibly can. He leads me all the way back to my cell before turning to me. "I can get in trouble for this. So, you have two options. You can go down to the sick ward. I'll say you had a seizure or something, or I lock you in. Your choice."

I have continued to cry quietly, and I quickly wipe my nose with the back of my hand. "I don't care. Just let me sleep. I'm so fucking cold," my teeth chatter as I pull my hoodie up over my head.

"Your choice, inmate," he tries to bark with authority but doesn't quite cut it. If I was well, I would have taken advantage of the situation, but right now, my eyes are heavy and my head hurts so badly, I want to shrivel up in a ball and die.

"Lock me in," I mumble as I climb onto the top bunk. From the first day, my roommate made it very clear that I get the top bunk which I didn't mind at first, but being sick day in and out, it's made leaping out of the bed harder and harder, the weaker I've become.

"Okay, then. I'll come and check on you for lunch." He walks over to the bed and just stands there as if he is expecting me to reply, and I turn towards him.

"Look, I'm not lying. I swear to you..."

"I know," a look of sadness washes over his face for a brief moment, and I want to ask what his story is, but I've learned to trust no one. Not even some mangy guard who was kind enough to let me lie down. "You should eat when I get you for lunch."

I shrug as I lay my head against the coolness of the flat pillow and close my eyes. "Maybe," I whisper before I drift off into another one of my haunting nightmares.

"Your Honor, I was called to a disturbance in the neighborhood down in Harlem on 105th, and Miss Callie Quinn was in a physical altercation with another girl, Izzy Daymude. Officer Mike Foster as well as myself were able to break them apart but witnessed Izzy with a red mark across her face," Officer Stefanie Adams Foster stood before the judge as she was giving an account of the events that brought Callie to the courtroom.

The judge, Judge Pierceson, nodded as he looked over the files and motioned for her to continue. "After breaking up what appeared to be a fight, words were being spewed back and forth, but we were able to contain them both, Officer Foster taking Izzy in his squad car, and me taking Callie in mine."

Judge Pierceson sighed as he looked over his glasses at the blonde before he looked over at Callie. "It says here that you petitioned the court to be emancipated eight months ago? And just recently, you celebrated your 17th birthday?"

Callie's lawyer nudged her and she quickly stood to her feet. "Yes..." she began fiddling with her fingers as her lawyer whispered something else to her. "I mean, yes, your Honor."

"Okay." He looked down again and wrote something. "I am not sure how you were awarded emancipation as within the last three months, you have been picked up by the police. Once for public intoxication, once for unlawful solicitation, and this time for a domestic disturbance." Looking further over his glasses, he soon took them off. "Please approach my bench, Miss Quinn."

Callie nervously looked over at her lawyer then at the empty benches behind her as this time there was no Robert or Jill. No Jude. No one in her family was here for her, and this was all due to the fact she was emancipated. Her lawyer had warned her that this could possibly go to adult court which would then place these smears on her permanent record. But Judge Pierceson was known for his want for rehabilitation in the adolescents, no matter the case, and her lawyer was hopeful as he nodded for Callie to proceed. He walked up beside her as she now stood between him and Officer Adams Foster.

"Miss Quinn, I don't believe you know what it's like to actually pay for your sins. In fact, it appears that you continue to live as if you don't care very much about your life. Like I said earlier, I don't understand what judge in their right mind would have awarded you emancipation as you don't appear to be able to go one day without an issue."

Stef looked over at the young girl, her strict look now softening as she once again looked up at the judge. This had been weighing on her heavily, and she barely slept the night before knowing that she'd be standing before the judge today. What she really hoped was that this wouldn't be sent to adult court because then, things would only progress and she'd basically never hear from Callie again unless she made it a point to do so.

"Do you have anything to say for yourself, young lady?"

Callie looked down at her hands now as she could feel everyone stare her way. Licking her cracked lips, she soon looked back up at Judge Pierceson before replying softly, "Your Honor, I apologize to the court..." she cleared her throat as she slowly pushed her long hair behind her ear. "I apologize to the court for how I have behaved." Tears could now be seen in the young teen's eyes as she now looked even smaller than before now.

"Your Honor, if I may speak?" Stef raised her hand slightly as everyone looked over at her.

The judge nodded as if to give her the asked permission, and she stood even taller. "I have been the arresting officer on all three of the instances that you mentioned, and I do believe that she was awarded emancipation wrongfully. That being said, I would like to make a suggestion to the court if I may?"

Judge Pierceson cleared his throat as if he wanted her to spit out whatever it was that she was wanting to ask, and she continued. "It seems as if Callie has zero guidance, and after looking at her files, she is from the Upper East Side, daughter of Robert Quinn, and as the court knows, he was not told of today's hearing. I do not believe that Callie is a bad kid. I've seen my share of spoiled rich kids come through here, your Honor, but somehow I feel that she is not one of those."

"What is your suggestion, Foster?" he barked at her becoming more impatient.

"Your Honor, I wanted to suggest that Callie be sent to a rehabilitation program for troubled teen girls. She would be under the supervision of Deborah Markhum over on 9th Street, and she would need to attend therapy and groups. I realize that under the emancipation laws, she could be sent to a halfway house, but I feel that Callie would progress with peers her own age."

The courtroom was silent for what felt like hours, but in reality was only a mere twenty seconds or so before the judge banged his gavel and closed Callie's file. "Miss Quinn, someone must have high hopes for you today or something because I had every intention of sending you on up the river to Harlem Penitentiary to await adult court. But I am giving you one chance, and one chance only. You will be placed under the supervision of Deborah Markhum at the Sheepfold Group Home, and you will be on probation. Because you are emancipated, I do not have to contact Robert Quinn, but I feel even if I did, he'd use his bank account to just bail you out again. That served you no reward these last times; so, this time, I am placing you under temporary assignment to Officer Stefanie Adams Foster and her partner, Lena Adams Foster. They will not be your parents, nor will they foster or adopt you, but you will be under their mentor-ship. Do you concur?"

Callie looked at the judge now, stone faced as she simply nodded, her hands now still by her side. Judge Pierceson once more banged his gavel before dismissing them, leaving Callie to wonder what in God's green earth just happened.