SLAP—
A crisp sound echoed.
Joan Shaw wasn't one to back down. She raised her hand and returned the favor.
SLAP—
This one was several decibels louder than the last.
Abby Thorne clutched her face in disbelief. 'That bitch actually dared to hit me back!'
The commotion in the women's restroom was so loud that people started trickling in to watch the drama unfold, but no one dared to intervene.
Not until Nola Lane squeezed through the crowd and stood in front of Joan Shaw. "Abby, I'm so sorry, so sorry. Please don't stoop to her level."
"Hmph! If I don't take her down with me today, then my name isn't Thorne!"
"And my name isn't Shaw!"
With that said, the two of them started grappling with each other.
"What are you all doing? Don't you have work to do?" A stern, deep voice cut through the air, causing the onlookers to scatter.
Abby Thorne saw that it was the captain and smirked. 'Heh, Joan Shaw, you're dead meat now.'
