Prologue I make my way down the long, cold corridor, with only the sound of my sneakers squeaking loudly on the dirty concrete floor. The halogen lights above flicker as I pass by, and I already don’t want to be here. I approach an older gentleman that’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, weeping into his hands. As I walk by, a few younger men attempt to console him and slowly escort him out of the building; I press mysel...