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From the moment the judge denied me bail, two thoughts kept me going: holding Lily in my arms again… and getting revenge on Miranda.

Both were excellent ways to keep my mind off the nightmare my life had become.

My reference points for prison were Hollywood movies, so I can’t say that I was totally prepared for what came next – but there were a bunch of moments that felt vaguely familiar.

First there was the transfer from the jail in Manhattan to Rikers. They put me in an armored van for the trip.

Let that sink in for a second.

An armored van. Like a Brinks truck, the kind they transport millions of dollars in.

Why? In case I’d hired a bunch of mercenaries with rocket launchers to break me out?

I think the New York judicial system had seen one too many bad action flicks.

There was the check-in, where my belongings were inventoried in front of me and put into storage. Then there was the shower and de-lousing powder. (That was an unpleasant first for me.) Then a new orange jumpsuit, s