Josie didn’t move. She didn’t place one foot in front of the other and run. She didn’t turn around and shoot her confession into Mary’s chest. She just stood in the hallway, outside the room of a boy she had nearly beaten, and the injustice of what she had almost done overcame her like a sudden fever. She forced herself to imagine the stairs, and her feet on them, and then she made herself take one step, then two, and then she was walking—hall, stairs, hall—and then outside on her bike, and finally at Devesh’s door, knocking—scraping her knuckles raw against the door because she had forgotten her key—and when he answered, she must have looked changed because he grimaced, ever so slightly, and she knew she was once again transparent.

“I want you to beat me,” she said quickly and walked directly into the bedroom. His two large suitcases were laid on the floor, open and half packed for India, and she stepped around them and opened the chest where he kept his toys. He didn’t say anything, but she could feel his unease. She took everything out—the paddles and whips and ropes—and arranged them all neatly on the bed.

She pulled her shirt, bra, and jeans off and turned toward him. “Panties on or off?”

“I thought we had decided not to do this right now.”

She pushed her thumbs between the elastic of the waistband and her skin. “On or off?”

He didn’t say anything.

“Off then,” she said, and slid them down her legs. She picked up a coil of rope and two wrist cuffs and held them out for him.

“What exactly is going on?” he asked.

“I changed my mind. You can decide the implement.”

He was cautious with her. “This seems sort of a radical change from last night.”

“Are you going to do this or not?”

He looked at her, and it seemed an interminable amount of time before he spoke. “No,” he said.

She felt shaky. If she couldn’t get him to take the rope, to bind her and beat her ruthlessly, she might explode. She took a deep breath and tried to focus on the goal. “Please,” she said. “I need you to do this.”

“Why?”

She wouldn’t tell him, couldn’t tell him. “I just need it … tonight. Please.”

He stared at her, and she knew whatever came out of his mouth next would be a definitive decision.

“Give me the cuffs,” he said.

She exhaled softly and handed them to him.

“Will you tie me?” she asked. “Tightly?” She thought she could control her mouth, but she was unsure of her body, and she wanted no way for her to stop him.