" There was a momentary and terrible silence, broken only by a few feeble groans. To stop her, Sebastian slapped her face and nearly dislocated her jaw. She could smell the savory tinge of his sweat in the air. ‘What would you do in Valade’s place?’ ‘You mean, knowing that the girl was here and liable to queer my pitch?’ ‘Precisely. When the word “FREAK” appeared scratched in the persimmon colored paint on her locker, she knew that in some fragile young woman’s mind a war had escalated from imaginary to physical. She wedged the towel between her legs. His pipe hung dead in his teeth, but the smoke was dense about him. Mere formality. “Before this there was a sort of restraint—a make-believe. Wood, who was standing at the edge of a raised platform, anxiously waving his hand to him.
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