Now she was going to be wearing it for another auction, but this time there was no pretense of fantasy play. This time, it was for real. She was truly...a slave, about to be sold to the highest bidder, who would have complete control over her, indeed, the ability to determine whether she should live or die.It felt strange to be wearing so much clothing, even as skimpy and revealing as it was. The closest thing to any clothing Tulsa had been permitted at any time during the past year was a cotton. There’s something different about the world at night, when all I can hear is the snap of a playing card and the occasional turning of a page. Mostly I like it, but when the playing cards stop and the book closes, and it’s just me and the driver and the stars, I feel very small and unsure. I look out the window, and it’s like falling into a black hole—just a sea of nothing out there. And sometimes I wonder if I did the right thing when I’m surrounded by all that nothing. All that space, all I. More

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