“What are you looking for? I don’t understand," I cried. Dread pooled in the pit of my stomach as Meredeth unearthed a handful of small baggies, the white pills inside them glinting in the faint light.
“These are what we were looking for, Anastasia,” she said, in a very disappointed voice as she slowly got up from the floor, the baggies clenched tightly in her hand.
“Those aren’t mine. I swear it, Meredeth. I would never—” my voice rose in panic. The woman in the cot behind me stirred and muttered something.
I lowered my voice. “I don’t know where those came from. I don’t even know what they are!”
Meredeth stared at the baggies for a long moment before she finally met my gaze for the first time, her face full of disappointment.
Conny was shaking her head. Douchebag. She’d just started working here two weeks ago, and a lot of the regulars had complained of how judgmental she was. As if all of us at the shelter wouldn’t have to stay here if we just tried harder.
I stared at the white pills in disbelief, trying to understand where they’d come from, how this could have happened. Tears pooled in my eyes as I realized how this looked. Glancing at Meredeth, I knew what she was going to say before the words had even come out of her mouth. “You know our policies, Ana. We have a one-strike rule when it comes to substances. I can’t just ignore this.” Her words were heavy with regret. “I’m so sorry, but this is your last night with us. You won’t be able to come back.”
Frustrated and shocked tears streamed down my face as I realized she was serious. Despite the fact that I’d had a perfect record for the entire three years I’d stayed here...they were kicking me out.
“What about the girl who’d assaulted me the other night after I walked in on her with a needle in her arm—did she get the one-strike rule speech as well?” I asked hysterically, searching around the room, wondering if she was sleeping peacefully in here somewhere, with the drugs swimming through her veins.
Sure there were other homeless shelters in the city that I could go to. But none of them were like this—for women only, and clean, and safe.
“Grab your things,” Meredith said, not answering me, and I fell to my knees.
“Please, they’re not mine. Someone planted them. Please don’t kick me out tonight.” I was babbling almost incoherently, but my words somehow got to Meredeth, her gaze softening. She pursed her lips and stared at the ceiling for a second before taking a deep breath.
“Because of your previous perfect record, you can stay for the rest of the night,” she said, a look of pity in her gaze that I hated. “But you need to be ready to leave at seven. We’ll be back in the morning to walk you out. And then you can’t come back,” she said firmly. I blinked at that. I mean, I had seen them do that to other people, but....
“You don’t need to walk me out,” I whispered, my ears heating up in shame.
“Seven a.m.,” she said firmly before she and Conny walked away.
I stared after them before I sat back on my cot heavily. What was I going to do?
And whose drugs were those? I glanced around at the cots, searching for someone who’d given me a weird vibe, or a mean look at some point. But there were only newbies around me that I hadn’t really interacted with. I couldn’t think of a reason that a perfect stranger would have placed drugs under my cot. If they’d been trying to hide it until later in case there was a search, their plan had backfired. Because they’d just lost their drugs.
Was it that girl? Had I somehow offended her in a past life and she’d come here to ruin me, first in the bathroom and now?
Except...she didn’t seem to be here. So it couldn't have been her.
So how the hell did those pills get under my cot?
I rubbed my eyes, despair seeping through my veins like broken ink in a pen. The room felt too hot, hysteria crawling up my spine. What was I going to do? Where would I go?
Maybe I could talk to Montana in the morning. Her shift usually began at five. She’d known me longer than Meredeth. She'd defend me, tell everyone there had been a mistake.
I understood the reasoning behind the one-strike policy...but surely there had to be exceptions. Surely someone had successfully pleaded their case and the shelter let them return.
I tried to think if I remembered anyone.
And my heart sank as I laid back on my cot...because I couldn’t think of a single one.
I was awake the rest of the night, staring up at the ceiling and counting down the hours until I no longer had a place to safely rest my head.
Going to Michael’s or his parents wasn’t an option.
I had promised myself I’d never go back there, and even if it killed me, I wasn’t going to break that promise.
When morning came, I was sitting on my cot, my stomach in knots. Montana came through the door and I jumped to my feet as she walked down the aisle toward me, a somber expression on her face.
“Ready to go?” she asked before I could say anything. I blinked at her, the speech I’d been preparing in my head for the past few hours sinking in my chest.