“He wanted another twenty pages in two days, and I produced that too…unraveling thoughts in me bound up so tightly I never knew they were there until one appeared and then another…rape, abuse, bondage, submission far beyond anything we ever did with Andie, things we never dared try. I practically had a novel of erotic need being birthed…”
Zooey’s face lit. “So you do understand,” she said drolly.
Harper nodded. “I understand a lot of things,” she said flatly. “I kept journaling, writing page after page—typed no less—huge volumes that I presented to Professor Vincent, without his comment. He didn’t do anything, I simply wrote, telling him every sordid, miserable thing that came to mind. I’m not even sure that he read my writing, all hundred and twenty pages…
“Almost a month had passed;
