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CLARKSON SEEMED LIKE HE was going to scream. Ella didn't dare to comment on his anger though as she sat on the shaky chair in front of his desk. The whole makeshift office in the house was almost falling apart, the wooden table seeming to be rotting and the chairs squeaking with every small movement. There was no other furniture, the small room only having one window through which little light filtered.

She was the first one with which he had demanded to speak. It probably was the fact that one of Trevor's friends had run to him that had caused her to be shed in a particularly bad light. And if not that, then her bloody knuckles and bruised cheeks.

"I knew you were trouble," Clarkson fumed," following right in your brother's footsteps, I see."

Ella sighed, rolling her eyes as she leaned backwards. She slung an arm over the chair, all hints of pretense gone now the whole game was over.

"You're being dramatic," she pointed out.

"You fought and injured eight guys!" he exclaimed.

"Six," she said," and to be fair, none of them are very badly injured."

She tilted her head to the right, her eyes gleaming with the kind of cockiness years of training had given her.

"If I had wanted to, you would've known," she said," because none of them would have been able to run to you anymore."

"Arrogance will get you nowhere," Clarkson said, a hand pressed to his temple as if to quell his starting headache.

He was right about that though. It had only gotten her here, in this same situation she had been in time and time again. But she couldn't filter her words, not anymore. Not when it all was useless now.

She may just as well let it all out one last time before she was singing prayers about Jesus Christ next week.

"I've notified your family," he said," I got Sebastian on the line and he's coming to pick you up."

Chances were her mother would follow as well and if not, that confrontation would ensue in their house. Still, she was glad to hear she would see Sebastian first, if only to prepare for her early death.

"You're immediately to be sent home," Clarkson said," we don't tolerate excessive violence here."

To be honest, St Joseph seemed to be exactly the place where they did tolerate it. She was too focused on her impending doom to talk back though, stress beginning to seep through.

"And about the others -" Clarkson began.

"It was me," Ella interrupted," I was the only one who fought there. Trevor's friends can attest to that."

Clarkson frowned, but she just went on.

"I told you Trevor attacked me," she said," and he and his friends started hitting the boys. They didn't do anything. It was all me."

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