Page 6 (1/2)

Orion nods to Luthor, indicating that he should go next, but Luthor shakes his head Instead, Victria begins reciting her poetry

It’s not until Bartie goes that I am able to draw my attention away from Luthor’s too-short sculpture

Hisand sorrow, and I want to fill it with my voice, but I don’t It’s better this way

As his music fades, I step forithand just sing

And for that short ht

But then the moment disappears

I open my eyes, and I’m still here And so is Luthor

"Thank you, Selene," Orion says "Now, it’s your turn, Luthor "

He doesn’t bother introducing his work Instead, Luthor steps up to his sculpture and in one swift asp--the only sound in the silent gallery

The sculpture is no longer faceless--it’s headless Froh ine hiers around the clay, carefully and precisely squeezing, squeezing, squeezing until the head siht off

Froraceful and elegant than I’d reernails, veins at the delicate wrists Individual toes curl around the base, and the draping gown looks as if it is made of silk, not

" Well " Orion’s voice cuts through the ringing silence "This is quiteillu, Luthor "

Luthor lets the sheet that had been covering his sculpture drop to the floor as he turns and storh and Harley, as wrapped up as they are in each other, have noticed the way Bartie and Victria never leave my side Their worry is palpable

" Go to Doc," Harley finally says "Ripping the head off a sculpture of someone is loons

Maybe he can up Luthor’s meds "

"I don’t think the h says

"They just-- "

"This isn’t the time for that," Victria snaps I’h before "But Harley’s right We should talk to Doc Or ht of her words sink in before I say anything "Not Eldest It’s just a creepy sculpture No reason to contact Eldest "

Although no one says anything, the tension in the room dissolves a bit now that I’ve said to leave Eldest out of it

" Still--Doc?" Bartie says

I shake my head "It’s just a sculpture "

I can’t sleep that night, which is henin the doorway

"You were supposed to be asleep," he says

"You’re supposed to be in your own roos and steps inside, letting the door zip closed behind him

"I didn’t say you could come in! "

He just stands there

" Get out! " I say,

In two steps, he’s atmy mouth I try to shout, but the sound isrip

"You were supposed to be mine," he says His breath is hot, his pupils dilated

I shake rip

"I don’t like to share "

His hand slips down "I don’t knohat you’re talking about! " I yell

But his hand isn’t lettingfurther down His other hand joins the first around my neck

I am hyperaware of the situation I can feel each heavy thud of er and faster I can feel each of his fingers aroundsure I know that he could

Unbidden and unwanted, an ie of his sculpture comes into my mind: a perfect body with its head squeezed off

My eyes burn "Don’t, " I whisper, afraid to say ht its way up my throat to my mouth

"I could," he says "I could I can do whatever I want "

" Don’t, " I plead

"You sing You beco--er strokes the front offor anyone else," he orders

I nod rip tightens around ht leg, and, without re his hands fro ainstinto my hair

"You’retime before he leaves, but when he finally does, a part of ht in the blue plastic chair across froers as he looks at me "But, " he says in a carefully controlled voice, "he didn’t actually do anything?"

For answer, I reerprint-shaped bruises decorateelse?" Doc shifts uncomfortably " He threatened you, yes, I understand that, but he didn’t actually?"