"You seem awfully fine for a group that was 'attacked,'" she said, her voice flat. "Meanwhile, the so-called 'aggressor' is sitting here badly injured."
Melanie's eyes narrowed.
For a fraction of a second, just long enough for Ethan to catch, her mask cracked.
She covered it quickly, but he saw it.
Eleanor had just struck a nerve.
Melanie scoffed, crossing her arms. "He brought that on himself," she said, the act of 'hurt senior' starting to slip into something sharper.
Ethan let out a slow, steady breath.
'She's slipping.'
Just a little.
But it wasn't enough.
Because no matter what, the footage was still in her favor.
And unless Eleanor had something stronger to work with, unless Ethan had something to prove his side—
The door to the office swung open.
Everyone turned.
A new figure stepped inside, their presence immediate.
An instructor.
But not just any instructor.
Professor Grayson.
