Chapter 825
The cool, dismissive tone was like a lit match on gasoline. Melanie’s face contorted, but the memory of the wager, of the public shaming, was still fresh. She visibly fought for control, her jaw clenched so tight a muscle jumped in her cheek.
“Yes, Ma’am,” she spat, the honorific tasting like poison in her mouth. “I need you to come down here.”
The forced respect, so clearly at odds with the hatred in her eyes, was a pathetic sight. Even Blair, standing beside her, flinched at the sound of it.
A tiny, almost imperceptible smile touched Caroline’s lips. She swung her legs over the side of the bunk and climbed down the ladder with a slow, deliberate grace. She landed softly on the floor and stood before them, her hands relaxed at her sides instead of crossing over her chest, her posture calm enough to feel insulting.
“Well?” she prompted.
Melanie took a deep breath, steeling herself. Her right hand remained trapped in its sling, splinted and wrapped in thick gauze against her chest. She could not jab a finger at Caroline’s face, so she lifted her chin instead, using sheer venom where a gesture would have been. “What happened to your mouth?” she demanded, her voice loud and accusatory. “Who’s been chewing on you?”
The question was crude, designed to shame and provoke. Blair smirked, her eyes glinting with malice.
The barracks door swung open, and Brenna walked in, a basket of laundry balanced on her hip. She took in the scene in a single glance and dropped the basket, its contents spilling across the floor.
“Melanie, have you lost your mind?” Brenna snarled, rushing forward to plant herself between Caroline and her attackers. “Leave her alone! She bit her lip during the run today, from drinking too fast. It’s none of your business!”
The excuse was weak, but Brenna delivered it with the ferocity of a mother bear defending her cub.
A flicker of warmth went through Caroline. But she knew this wasn’t over.
Melanie let out a cold, disbelieving laugh. “Is that right? Well, let’s get a closer look and see if it was water or some man who did that to her.”
She shifted as if to step closer, but the movement pulled at the broken bones in her bound hand. Pain flashed across her face before she could hide it.
Caroline’s eyes went flat and cold. She did not grab Melanie’s wrist. She didn’t need to. Melanie’s own injury was already doing the work for her.
“Don’t touch me,” Caroline said, her voice dangerously quiet.
Blair stepped forward, taking her place beside Melanie, presenting a united, threatening front. The air in the small space crackled with the promise of violence.
Caroline looked from Melanie to Blair, and the last lingering haze of embarrassment vanished from her face. She had no intention of being dragged into another ugly little bathroom ambush.
That game had already been played. She had won it. Repeating it would only give them a chance to scream victim in front of the wrong audience.
She smiled faintly.
The expression made Blair’s smirk falter.
“I’m tired,” Caroline said to Brenna, her voice even. “But not tired enough to make the same mistake twice.”