"I'll do my best to get them in good shape for you next year." Shepaused, then caught the principal's eye. "Uh, If you'll excuse me, I need toask Mrs....McGregor something." And with that, she was gone. Had I made herthat uncomfortable? Or was she just uneasy in all informal situations?Watching her over the next couple of weeks, I learned that the answer was inboth questions. Yes, I had made her uncomfortable, but it wasn't me. Iobserved her carefully, but from a distance, in the teacher's. I wondered if she had lost her will toresist just by listening to me. I had hoped not, I wanted her to bestrong for me and not give in. I willed myself to believe I couldtelepathically tell her that I loved her more now than ever and thatshe must resist, that I would take the torture for her. I could not ofcourse and I knew she was going to break, if she had not already.I was released from the cross, and felt myself being seated in a woodenchair. I was roped into place, the cords burning my. More

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