“Hey!” Ronda’s voice was a whip crack in the silence, authoritative and unyielding. Trevor, momentarily stunned by the direct confrontation, shrank under the weight of her glare. The hall, once a cacophony of laughter and jeers, was now filled with a tension so thick it was almost palpable.

With a calm that belied the storm within, Ronda approached, her focus solely on La Kea. Kneeling beside her daughter, Ronda checked her over with a mother’s care, ensuring she was unharmed beyond the bruises already forming. La Kea, though shaken, managed a small nod of reassurance, her eyes welling with a mixture of relief and lingering fear.