Third-person POV
The only sound in the old classroom was the steady dripping of water from a leaky pipe in the ceiling, and by the time Electra arrived, the show had already begun.
Deena sat tied to a wooden chair in the center of the room, her wrists bound tightly behind her back. A thin trickle of blood ran from the corner of her lip, and the bruising on her cheek indicated that someone had already given her a not-so-friendly welcome.
Electra's gaze flickered to Roxana and Irina, her lips pressing into a firm line. "Who hit her?"
Roxana, arms crossed, raised an unimpressed brow. "Do you really think it was me?"
Electra sighed. She knew who the culprit was before even looking at her.
Turning to Irina, she saw the smug expression on her friend's face, the telltale glint of mischief dancing in her eyes.
Irina shrugged nonchalantly. "What? I couldn't help myself. The bitch deserved it."
