The sight that met Darno's eyes was brutal. He had seen fights before, more than his fair share of them. He'd been in plenty himself. He'd seen staff members lose their tempers during sparring and accidentally go too far. He'd even seen bones break. But this… this was something else entirely.
Johna lay sprawled near the shattered sink, blood smearing across the tiles beneath his head. His face was swollen, cut open in several places, and his jaw hung slightly askew. Mateo was slumped halfway inside a broken stall, conscious but barely moving, his hands twitching uselessly against the floor as if his body had forgotten how to stand.
Darno's jaw tightened. "Who… who could have done this?"
It couldn't have been him. It couldn't have been that kid.
But there had only been one person Johna and Mateo had set their sights on. One person who had walked away from this hallway, calm as ice, with blood staining his knuckles.
