Rawlings joined us carrying a hard backed wooden kitchen chair and roughly forced me to sit in it where he tied my hands behind my back around the bac... of the chair, and then tied my legs together at the ankles, the rough twine running over my socks, in the manner that reminded me of how Bradford Gold had been bound before meeting his fate, via bath and river. I shivered at the thought.Through the office windows I could see Cummings rise from where he was sitting, but I could hear nothing. I could only stand there, stunned. ‘Go on!’ she snapped. ‘Go read a book. That’s what you really want to do.’ In fact that was what I really wanted to do. Reading was all I had ever really enjoyed. But still, something like rejection flowed like ice water through my veins. I had done something wrong, but wasn’t quite sure what it was. * * * And now I was twenty-five, a shiny new professional, right off the boat of grad school. This was where all that reading had gotten me. Yet still I didn’t. More

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