Roxxanne’s POV.
The detention room smells like dust and old wood. The walls are grey with crumbling shelves, lined with books that are old and torn. A single light bulb flickers in the corner of the room.
I sit at a desk near the window, leaning on my hand, pretending to look at the sky through the bars. I check the clock now and then. Five minutes in, and I already regret agreeing to this. I could’ve gotten away with it. I don’t even know why I said yes.
I look at Mr Thorne, the supervisor for detention, who looks like he’d rather be anywhere else. And then at Canan, who sits like he owns the academy himself. I wonder why he agreed to come to detention. He is not someone who follows or obeys academy rules.
Mr Thorne, the supervisor for detention, is flipping through a pile of papers
