Wearing a bleak, loose-fitting gray prison jumpsuit, Nadera Goodson, a homeless and pregnant teen with pretty features and hard eyes, denies firing the bullet that killed her boyfriend in what police say was a game of Russian roulette in a boarded-up row house in Jamaica, Queens.

The game was not Russian roulette, she told The New York Sun in a jailhouse interview, because that game requires at least two people to play and only one person ever handled the gun, her boyfriend, Michael Henry, 18.

Ms. Goodson, 19, also said police officers verbally threatened her with sexual taunts and, after at least eight hours of harried interrogation in a closed room without a lawyer, coerced her into giving a false confession on videotape. “Why would I kill the one person I ever loved in my life?” Ms. Goodson told a reporter during visiting hours at Rikers Island last week, her first public remarks since the August 7 shooting. She was confused.

“Why would I shoot my baby’s father?” she said.

The teen, two months pregnant, is charged with manslaughter and possession of an illegal weapon. If found guilty, she faces up to 15 years in prison. Bail is $150,000.

“I don’t even have a dollar,” she said. The story she tells is one of two homeless orphans too hungry for each other to pay attention to empty pockets or stomachs.

“Like a fairytale,” she said.

They met flirting in a McDonalds. Gerald – they always called each other by middle names, hers is Samantha – was a former choir member who bragged to be part of the Bloods street gang. She claimed to have sung in church choirs.

They began wandering the streets in May, sleeping in random garages, washing in fast food restaurants and helping the elderly with shopping bags for spare change, she said.

Everything changed in June when Robert Lynn, a friend of Henry’s, offered them a $100 a week to live in a house under construction at 150-80 Foch Boulevard to keep squatters out.

The gun, a .38 caliber revolver, arrived shortly after a man broke into the house. Mr. Lynn, an employee for Big E Construction, a firm addressed at 2188 Valentine Avenue in the Bronx, brought the revolver to them loaded for their protection, she said.

Henry couldn’t keep his hands off it, Ms. Goodson said. He often emptied the bullets onto the floor and stuck the chilly barrel to his head and pulled the trigger, teasing her.

Then, on that fatal day, Henry did something he never did before, she said. It was before noon. They were in the bedroom and had just finished watching cartoons.

He took the revolver from its hiding place in the closet and removed all the bullets, all except for one. Then he put the gun to his head and pulled the trigger.

Click.

Ms. Goodson began to scream, she said, begging him to stop. He pulled the trigger again.

Click.

Her fingernails were squeezed into a pillow when Henry squeezed the trigger for the last time. All she remembers is being next to him on the floor, rubbing his hands against her face, saying, “Baby, Baby.”

When Ms. Goodson later told police Harris had killed himself, she said, they wouldn’t believe her. In fact, she said, they laughed at her.

In the interrogation room, she also remembered police mixing false statements into their sentences, like, “Again, what did you do after you killed your boyfriend?” There were also attempts to make dubious deals, she said, such as, “If you just confess now, we’ll be much easier on you later.”

A police spokesman declined to comment on Ms. Goodson’s comments and said the investigation was ongoing. Her next court appearance is August 26.

Until then, she will be held on Rikers Island, without family members to call collect, without shampoo or money for the commissary, stuck only in the company of convicts and uncomfortable thoughts.

One sticks out in particular. It comes from inside her belly. “When my child gets older, and asks where my daddy is and how he died, what will I say?”