Wilkinson only understood what was happening once officers drove them, still in their pajamas, nearly two hours to the NYPD’s Seventh Precinct, where they overheard one officer tell another they were with the hate crimes unit. There, Wilkinson was for the first time able to get their eyes on an actual search warrant — not because police finally showed them one but because someone they were sharing a cell with who had been arrested as part of the same operation had one in their pocket. Wilkinson was finally released from jail by a judge at 1 a.m.

“They ripped my entire apartment and life apart,” says Wilkinson.