Notebooks and stacks of textbooks and paperbacks were as much decoration as she had except for a dog-eared poster of Nighthawks taped to the wall.Lamb...thought he should get her a fresh print of the painting. Frame it. Make it a formal apology. He sat down on the edge of her bed, careful not to touch her. She was still only wearing her panties and socks, smelling faintly of girl-sweat and almonds."Could you go away, please?" Her voice was strained."I've got an icepack for your elbow." Please.". I was barely able to speak; too frightened. Who was he? What did he want? Who would he tell? How do I make this nightmare end? Eventually I stammered: "A couple of years." It came out as a pathetic whisper.He grinned. "Getting good at it! You look good! How do you feel?" Terrified!" I blurted out.He laughed, putting the glass down and taking the joint from my hand. "Not now, Princess! Before, when you were dancing in front of the mirror." He looked me in the eyes meaningfully then took a long. More

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