And she couldn't force a muscle to free herself. Or find the right words to beg herself free. At least not in English which we both only...spoke.Page 19. I felt her belly and the cable taut across it and visited the ratchet handle. I applied it three clicks and the line made a grove into her gut and naturally pressed her down harder onto the block under her backside. She wasn't sure she'd ever imagined such a thing as even being possible, nor read it nor seen it. Not at Broadthroup and Brown. Not with Winston. Not with Brad. None of it was stable. But I, who had once been celebrated for decisiveness and initiative, had no desire, no intention, no will to make a change. I did not even know what change I wanted. Which was real: the person I had seemed to be all my life, who excelled at school and work, or the person I was with Brad? The only indicator was that I remained passive. One evening though, half hysterically, I did confront Brad. We were in his. More

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