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Marie felt her chest expand with happiness.Several minutes later, he gently tugged on her hair to get her to sit up. He held a glass of water for her while she drank, waiting until she had finished it. He, she saw, was drinking from an expensive-looking bottle of red wine. A few more minutes passed while he savored his wine, then he stood and retrieved a clean dishcloth, wet it, and came back to clean Marie's face. She blushed anew. She certainly hadn't been worried about keeping her face clean while she ate, she realized now. She was vaguely surprised that he did it silently, making no attempt to humiliate her further. Was that because he had more challenges in store for her later this evening?Marie watched as her Master performed only the most rudimentary clean-up of the kitchen. Leaving the dishes for later didn't seem like his style, and she smiled to herself, imagining that he was in a hurry to play some more with her—his toy.She wasn't far off, if she'd known it. The impromptu. But PTSD is funny. When it comes, why it comes, what brings it on—we don’t know so much. Two people have the same experience, one goes full-flown PTSD, one is born again. Why?’ Out of the window, Bell watched the last daylight on the Bellagio’s oceanic pool. He cracked his knuckles, one by one. Then he looked up and smiled. ‘I know you have to go,’ he said. ‘You’re going to approach Tamina?’ ‘Like to. This evening, if she’s able.’ He held out a card to Sturges. ‘Any serious moral qualms?’ ‘Mine are rather beside the point,’ he said. He laughed. ‘She has all of those she needs. You’ll see. Sure, I’ll pass along the card.’ ‘Obliged,’ said Bell Sturges shoved back the chair and rose. He looked down at Bell for a few moments. Then, he said, ‘She’s gorgeous, of course. But I’m quite certain that in the two years she’s been in our shop, no one has scored.’ ‘Thank you,’ said Bell gravely. ‘Thank you, doctor.’ Bell had told her on the telephone that he would recognize her. All she had to do.
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