Spy School: Secret Service
I moved down the corridor so I could get a better look at her. She was using the bars of her cell as
makeshift gymnastic equipment, hanging by her hands from them several feet above the floor, her legs
spread in a midair split. Instead of her usual sparkly pink leotard, she was in drab prison garb, but she
still had a bit of her traditional glitter in her hair. While Nefarious had grown paunchy during the time
since I’d last seen him, Ashley had actually become even more fit in jail—which was really saying
something. She had been in excellent shape at evil spy school. Now her muscles bulged so big, they
strained the legs and sleeves of her uniform.