The classroom was cold, the kind of cold that settled in your bones and made you want to pull your jacket tighter. The stink of old chalk and floor wax hung in the air.

Marcus was tied to a chair in the center. Hands behind his back, legs bound to the chair legs. His lip was split, and a dark bruise was already blooming along his cheekbone.

Saya stepped forward, her hand twitching near the hilt of her katana.

The room went very still. To your left, Billy and Lex were muttering to each other in the corner, heads close, Billy's mohawk bobbing as he whispered.

Willie stood with his arms crossed, watching with that calm, unreadable expression of his. Maria leaned against a desk, her dark eyes fixed on Marcus with something between irritation and curiosity.

Master Lin simply tilted his head, as if Marcus were a bug under glass.