Elena thrashed, her boots scraping a frantic, hollow rhythm against the concrete floor as gray water sloshed over the rim of the galvanized bucket. Nina didn't let go. She kept her weight leaning hard into the back of Elena's neck, her fingers knotted immovably near the crown of the girl's head, holding her down until the desperate bubbles rising through the hair dye residue finally slowed.
Each second stretched like wire pulled taut. Nina felt the resistance in Elena's body… the animal panic, the clawing instinct to survive, and she held firm anyway. Part of her registered the wrongness of it, the crossing of a line she'd never approached before, but a louder voice insisted Elena had pushed her to this point deliberately, methodically, all morning long. The justification felt thin even as she clung to it, a flimsy shield against the enormity of what she was doing.
With a sharp, upward jerk, Nina hauled Elena's head out of the bucket.
