Her slender, pale fingers closed tightly around Daisy’s throat. “Daisy, have I been too nice to you?”
“It—it wasn’t me! Let me go!” Daisy choked out, flailing her arms and legs.
“If not you, then who? You’re the only one in this room who has a problem with me,” Yvonne said, her grip tightening.
Daisy’s face started to turn purple as she struggled for air.
“Not me! I was at the talent show the whole time! I came back with Marina right after,” she rasped, forcing the words out.
“If it wasn’t you, then tell me who it was,” Yvonne demanded, a cold, humorless smile on her face as she maintained her grip.
Starved for oxygen, Daisy’s struggles grew weaker. Her eyes darted instinctively toward Doris.
Doris was still sitting at her desk, her head bowed so low it nearly touched her chest—a clear sign of guilt.
But even on the verge of passing out, Daisy didn’t rat her out. She was betting Yvonne wouldn’t dare to actually kill her.
As if to prove her right, Yvonne’s grip loosened slightly. Daisy gasped for air, but just as she took a few ragged breaths, Yvonne’s fingers clamped down again.
Daisy’s body convulsed in a desperate, oxygen-starved struggle. Yvonne would ease up for a moment, letting her breathe, only to tighten her grip again.
She played with her like a toy, repeating the cycle several times until Daisy finally broke.
“Doris! It was Doris! Check the logs if you don’t believe me! She was the only one who left the show early to come back to the dorm!”
As soon as the words tumbled out, Yvonne released her.

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