She was just another product of bad choices. Adaptation and resilience had built a girl whose pieces were the colors of stained glass. Star used to tell her all the time that she was going places. It was one of the few things that hadn't been a lie.
Experience, learn, move on. RUN.
There was no such thing as home.
Street art. Tattooing. Fast cars. Survival. Her right hook wasn't half bad.