Explosions were not conducive to wedding planning. Brooke shrieked and stood up from the desk in her room, her wedding binder going one way, papers and design clippings going another. What the hell?! Brooke grabbed her Valentino clutch from the table next to the door of her room and stormed outside. Already, she could feel the chaos. Though she lived off to the side in the guest quarters, the emotions were running strong.

A glance out the window confirmed the worst.

Purifiers.

A shadow crossed over Brooke's eyes, but she raised her chin in defiance. Upset that they would think it proper to attack a school in this way, she headed for the doors.

Brooke may not have been the best hand-to-hand combatant at the Institute, but she was a damn fine empath, and she took crap from no one.

Especially not villains in questionable clothing with far less than noble intentions.