Her stomach twisted. A choked sound escaped her throat. That was when her pocket tore. A small laminated card slipped out and fell to the floor with a soft tap. Bryce lowered the camera.
What's that? Reed reached over with one free hand and picked it up. He frowned at the text. Advanced tactical youth program level four certified. Colton snorted.
What is that? Some summer camp merit badge? Reed shrugged, handing it to Troy. Looks official though. Troy glanced at it, and for a split second, something unreadable flashed in his eyes.
Not fear, not confusion, but recognition of something he didn't want to understand. Then he smirked, masking the flicker. He dropped the card onto the floor and crushed it under his shoe. Trash, he said, just like her. As the card skidded across the tile, Nia realized something terrifying.
These boys didn't know who they were messing with, but soon they would. Power shifts fast, sometimes in the space of a single breath. For a long moment, the only sound in the West Wing bathroom was Nia's ragged breathing. Her palms trembled against the cold tile. Her throat burning from humiliation.
She refused to let define her. The taste of toilet water still lingered, acidic and degrading, as if it wanted to stain her spirit. But something else rose stronger. Not tears, not fear, not surrender. A cold, controlled fury sharp enough to slice through the stench around her.
Troy loosened his grip for half a second, satisfied with the damage he believed he'd done. "See? Told you she'd break, " he muttered. "That was his mistake. " Nia's body moved before her mind even finished the decision.
With a burst of precision, she planted her hand on the tile and pushed upward, fast, explosive, impossible for Troy to anticipate. Her shoulder slammed into his chest as she surged to her feet. Troy staggered backward, slamming into the metal stall door with a loud clang. His eyes widened, shocked not by the force, but by the suddenness, the speed of her recoil. Reed, Bryce, and Colton froze.
Just one second, one precious, irreversible second. Nia's eyes lifted. No longer wide with panic, but narrowed, steady, lethal. The glossy fear was gone, replaced by something colder, something ancient, something trained. Reed swallowed.
What? What are you doing? Nia's voice came out lower, steadier than any of them had heard before. My turn. Bryce's phone camera shook as his hands trembled, but he kept filming.
This was content to him, just a new angle of the crazy girl fighting back. He didn't realize he was recording evidence that would bury them. Colton stepped forward uneasily. "Sit back down. We're not done.
" Nia tilted her head, studying him like a threat she had already measured and dismissed. "You should have stayed outside. " The tension shifted so violently the air felt heavier. Even Troy, now recovering his balance, paused with a hint of uncertainty flickering through his smug expression. Reed lunged first, too confident, too sloppy.
He reached for her arm, probably expecting her to recoil like before. Instead, Nia's hand snapped up, catching his wrist mid-movement, her grip tightened with mechanical precision. Her stance adjusted, feet planted, shoulder lowered, hips angled. A perfect setup, Reed frowned. Let go, she twisted.
A clean, controlled, tactical motion. A motion that didn't require strength, only technique. A sharp crack echoed through the bathroom. Reed screamed, collapsing to the tile, clutching his bent wrist. Bryce gasped loudly behind the camera.