Quinn tested the bookend’s weight. It has potential, she decided.
She launched it across the room, her frustration fueling the throw. The bookend connected with the floor- to- ceiling mirror. A solid hit. Shards of glass splintered from the point of impact, but none fell to the floor.
Quinn bunched her fists. She could feel her molars grinding together. This was not what she had been hoping for. A weapon of some sort would have been nice but the Facility wouldn’t allow her to escape, not again.
“Wonderful,” she muttered to the room. “Can’t even let us throw a tantrum properly. Just great.” She raised her hands to the security camera dangling in the corner. “WHAT? AFRAID WE’LL OFF OURSELVES BEFORE YOU GET THE CHANCE? IS THAT IT?”
Not that she expected one. The next person she would see was her escort . And, oh buddy, that wasn't going to be a joyful interaction.