Then she heard his voice again, telling the men to bring the bench, and wondered what that meant. The Count moved forward and hands detached her wrist... and ankles from the swing, and he reached in and lifted her out. Expecting to be placed on her feet, she was surprised when he placed her down, on her back, on a bench, some four foot long, three foot high, and padded with cushioning. Even more surprising, one of the men was already lying face upwards on the bench, and Sarah was gently lowered. She could do it. She could stand against this threat. She would not give in. Of course, the closer she got to the classroom, the more nervous she felt. Xavier would surely be there. Would he arrive there before her? After? Or would they end up walking side by side down the same hallway? She didn’t know if she had the strength to face him. She arrived at class, and stepping through the front door, she felt her heart stop. Xavier was at his desk, eyes closed and chin rested on his hand, as if. More

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