A moment later, likely in response to a command, Elsa pulled out of the position and slumped into a humble bow at the man’s feet. She clutched his ankles as if she were begging for mercy, but he stepped away. I could see him rifle off another order, but I have no idea what that was. From some apartment above, the scratchy sounds of an old operatic recording wafted into the night air. If it had been another occasion, I might have stopped to listen to that tender aria winging its way toward heaven. But the music was only noise to me now, drowning out the sounds of voices I fought desperately to hear.
Had I heard the exchange that followed Elsa beating, perhaps I would have understood what the purpose was behind this ghastly scene. But I remained clueless.
To the man’s order, Elsa raised h
