I gingerly put on a G-String, stockings and heels, grab my purse and coat and pack a few personal belongings with trembling hands in a small bag. I walk quickly into the living room, frantically searching for my purse. I pull out Akihito’s business card and call it. He answers immediately.
“Akihito’s studio…”
I end the call. He calls back immediately. I don’t answer it. He sends a text.
“Who is this?”
Then he sends a second text.
“Come to me. The rope is waiting…”
The rope…
I open the sliding glass doors of the balcony and throw my cell phone over the railing, watching it fall through the air and smash into pieces on the concrete below. I shut my eyes, take a deep breath and go back into the condo. Then I see the note on the kitchen counter.
Dearest Grace,
You were resting so peac
