Like a stopped watch, he’d wound me—set my wheels, my complications, in motion. I was ticking now, and I couldn’t stop.Bearing weight, the throb...in my ankle was almost unbearable, but I pressed on, standing on tiptoe to slather a smooth, creamy layer of gesso across the top. I imagined a man’s shadow behind me, watching, judging—like Michelangelo’s Lorenzo di Piero, his sharp jaw propped upon his fist. ‘One week, Miss Foster,’ I quickened my strokes, spurred on by the pain, ‘Don’t disappoint. Next, she took the rope that had been on her husband, attached it to Marion's handcuffs, and pulled it down. Next she pulled Marion's ankle cuffs upward, forcing her into a hogtie position. She took the rope, looped it around the ankle cuffs, and pulled the rope back to the handcuffs. Finally, she pulled the rope hard, forcing Marion's arms and legs upward and together. She tied the rope off, pulling all the slack out between the hand and ankle cuffs. This forced Marion's shoulders legs, and. More

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