She felt relaxed, finally, holding Scott close in bed, the sweat from their lovemaking mixing together. His eyes looked so big, so close. She smiled and kissed him. "So you know this is our last time, right?"

He returned her kiss. "I know. This has been really, really nice. I just feel lucky we could meet and have this time together we could remember."

She sighed. "I'm lucky too. And I'd give anything to stay here all day, or just another hour. But I have to go." She looked at him with a sad face.

He reached out with fingers from both hands and pulled both corners of her mouth upward, making her giggle. "Don't give me that frown. The reason you have to go is... you're in the Academy!"

She pumped her arms in delight. "I know!!" She kissed him again, and stood up to round up her clothes.

He watched her from the bed, his head propped on his elbow-supported hand. "I know you can't even call me, because you can't talk to anybody on the outside. But I'll be imagining what you're doing while you're there, making new friends, practicing hanging... just being happy. I'm so glad you got that chance!"

Dressed now, she bent down and kissed him one more time. "And I'll always imagine you've found a way to be as happy as I am right now. I hope you do!" She straightened up, reaching behind her to open the door. She gestured with her hand. "Turn around and face the other way, okay?" She hurriedly brushed at her eye.

He did. When he turned back around a moment later, as he expected, she was gone.

She drove to the offices of Cameron Industries, and rushed up to the main office. A few minutes later she was in her father's office.

As he stood up behind his desk, she ran around it and wrapped her arms around him. "I got in, Daddy!"

Preston Cameron beamed at her. "That's great, honey! I'm proud of you."

Amy gasped, not from the sentiment itself, but from realizing she had never, in her life, heard her father say that to her.

She looked up at him, her face serious. "I'm leaving to go there now, Dad."

He looked surprised. "I'd had the impression you didn't start there until September. Am I remembering that right?"

She nodded. "I know, Dad. But there isn't anything in my life more important to me than being there, and there's nothing left that I have to do here. I'm sorry to cut a month off the end of the time I could spend with you, but you understand, don't you?" Her eyes pleaded with his. "Don't you?"

He looked steadily at her, saw the look in her eyes. "I do now, I think."

"Dad, thank you for everything you've ever done for me, you and Mom both. And..." She grinned at him. "See you one more time in about three years. Okay?"

He returned her smile. "Looking forward to it, sweetheart."

She gave him a kiss on the cheek. "Bye, Daddy. Wish me luck!" She turned and ran out the door, turning, as she ran, to blow him a kiss. She heard him call out, "Luck!" as she went out the front door into the hallway.

She drove at excess speed to the bank, walking out with a thousand dollars in cash from her account. Speeding home, she ran up to her room. She grabbed the Academy letter and envelope, and ran downstairs to use her dad's shredder. After destroying the letter, she nearly fed the envelope into the shredder as well, but stopped herself, giggling. No, I've got a place for this.

She took it back up to her room, emerging a few minutes later with a small handbag filled with the few possessions she was taking, and a large box containing her most important possession of all. She'd noticed the other boxes, with the names, were already gone. James had no doubt moved them downstairs.

In the hallway, she put her things down on the floor for a moment, and went into Andrew's room. She tossed the slave collar onto the bed. Then she arranged the ten crisp hundred-dollar bills from the bank in a sunburst pattern around the envelope, with its Hanging Academy return address, Amy's name prominently displayed. She was so glad Andrew wasn't home, though that was normal this week -- he was avoiding contact with Amy as much as possible in the interests of keeping a deal from which he had a lot to gain. She wished she could see his face when he saw this, but she needed to be safely away. She picked up her possessions again, and walked back up the hall, taking one last look at her bedroom. It had been the one corner of the world that belonged to her, for as long as she could remember.

She sighed and went down the stairs and, emerging from the house, took a last look at it as well. Then she put her things in the car and sped down the drive towards the street. Heading for the Academy.

She wasn't supposed to report to the Academy for a month. Andrew would be anticipating that she would remain at home that month.

Amy knew, with absolute certainty, that if she did wait, if she gathered all her things and said all her goodbyes and drove to the Academy in September, she would never get there. That month would give Andrew all the time he needed to make his plans for intercepting her, or to have someone else do it.

She visualized it very well, even dreamed very vividly about it. Andrew's style, she felt certain, would be to knock her out with a drug, most likely administered by a dart. She would wake up in the dark, in that tiny underground closet, in chains. In a slave collar. All hope lost. Even her father wouldn't know she was missing. He would assume she was at the Academy, and knew she couldn't contact him from there. He would never guess she was Andrew's badly-treated sex toy, secured underground where no sound she made could escape, where no one who didn't know exactly where she was could possibly find her.

There was only one way to avoid that ghastly future.

She drove, with screeching tires, into the Academy parking lot, looking at her watch. She had known she was running behind, but she had made it in time.

Out of breath, she entered the Admissions office, startling Sheila with the sight of a slightly bedraggled girl carrying a huge box under one arm and a handbag in the other. "Sheila, is Ms. Bennett still in?"

Sheila, looking as if she wondered what sort of emergency this could possibly be, picked up her phone and buzzed Ms. Bennett's office. A moment later, Vonda Bennett came out. "Oh, Amy, you made it. Is..." She stopped, puzzled. She hadn't expected Amy to be quite so encumbered.

Amy managed an exhausted smile. "Hi, Ms. Bennett. Could we go into your office a minute?"

Ms. Bennett nodded. "Of course, Amy." She gestured for Amy to follow her.

Amy sank down into the chair in front of the desk in the office, relieved that she could stop moving at last. She reached into her handbag and pulled out a folded sheet of paper. Despite her exhaustion, excitement bubbled inside her. The paper completed her access to her dream. "Here's my parental permission form." She put it on the desk in front of Ms. Bennett.

Ms. Bennett picked up the form, looked over it and nodded. "I'll put this in your folder, Amy, and your admission is complete as of now." She looked at Amy with a puzzled expression. "I know this can't be the reason you're here." She looked at Amy's handbag and the larger box on the floor.

Amy nodded. "Ms. Bennett -- I really, really hope this is possible. Could I stay here, at the Academy, until classes start?"

Vonda Bennett's eyes shot open wide. "Why, Amy?"

Amy had resolved to tell as much of the truth as she could. "It's really a long story, and I'll tell you everything, if you need me to do that. The short version is, I think my brother is a danger to me."

Ms. Bennett's eyes narrowed now. "Why would he be a danger?"

Amy sought for a way to say it. "He had... other plans for me, instead of being here."

Ms. Bennett looked at her, and slowly nodded. "I understand. I think. We haven't really done anything like this before. I'd certainly have to consult with Dean Porter on what our policies would be."

Amy nodded. "I understand that completely, ma'am. If this helps, could you tell him that I have over five... no, I'm sorry, over four thousand dollars in my savings, and I'll give that to the Academy? Here's my debit card..." she put it on the desk, "...and I'll write down the PIN number. And my car is out in front. Here are the keys..." she put those next to the card, "...and I'll sign my ownership over to the Academy too. And if there's a job you want me to do, like... well, I'm sure you have your own cafeteria, obviously, and there must be people working there. But any job, really. I'll do it."

Ms. Bennett's jaw dropped briefly as Amy went through her offers, but she closed it quickly. Tapping a pen on her desk, she said, "You know there's a security issue, don't you? There are... well, it's no secret that we have secrets."

"Yes, ma'am." Amy's heart soared. It sounded as if Ms. Bennett was seriously considering it! Amy was sure Dean Porter would see the sense in it if Ms. Bennett did.

"So you understand that, once we let you stay here, even for a night, we can't let you leave? None of the first-year students leaves the secured area at any time, and even after that it's only rarely, under controlled circumstances."

Amy nodded. "I know, ma'am. I'm prepared to... well, you must have some forms the new students sign, when they commit themselves to be your slaves."

"Of course, but Amy... we don't have them do that until after they have an orientation session, where we make it very clear to them what they are committing to, and that it's irrevocable." She leaned forward. "You know that every student at the Academy either graduates or else is hanged?"

Amy looked directly at Ms. Bennett's eyes. "I know, ma'am. And I'll commit to everything, right now. I'm offering myself as the Hanging Academy's slave. I don't need the orientation, or time to think it over." She smiled. "I'm going to do both of those things. Graduate and be hanged. I'll do one of them first, then the other."

Ms. Bennett finally laughed. "You drive a hard bargain."

Amy laughed too. "I learned that from my father."

Ms. Bennett picked up her phone, and punched a number in. A moment later, she said, "Dean Porter? I have an incoming student here with an unusual... proposal."

A few minutes later, after explaining to the dean all that had happened, Ms. Bennett hung up. "He wants us to come to his office. Are you ready to go there?" She rolled her eyes. "I guess I didn't need to ask."

"Yes... oh!" She pulled out her cell phone. "Can I make one call? I know I won't be allowed to do it from inside."

Ms. Bennett nodded, and Amy punched in the number. "Hi, Scott?"

"Amy?" Even Ms. Bennett, from where she sat, could hear the surprise in the voice.

"I'm here, at the Academy. They're about to let me in. Scott..." She'd planned to say something else. Several something elses. She didn't expect what came out of her mouth. "I love you."

There was no hesitation in the reply. "I love you too, Amy."

She closed the phone without saying another word, and held it against her cheek, feeling its warmth. She'd thought about telling him how great it had been, and that she'd always remember him. But she'd done all that already. There was only one thing they hadn't said to each other, and now that was done.

She handed the phone to Ms. Bennett. "I'm ready."

EPILOGUE

Amy distributed her few possessions around the dorm room, humming to herself. Her handbag was nearly empty now, its former contents on shelves and in drawers. She paused several times to look at herself in the mirror, wanting again to see the metal ring circling her neck, with its engraved "Slave Girl - Property of the Hanging Academy" showing backward in the reflection. She thought the Academy's slave collars were the most beautiful she'd ever seen.

Since the school year, running from September to September, was nearing its end, there were several empty rooms in the First Year dorm wing. Dean Porter had had a staff member bring a first-year uniform and collar to his office. Amy turned now in front of the mirror, tearing her eyes away from the collar to admire how the white short-shorts and bra made her look. Andrew would probably split his zipper if he could see me! she thought.

She looked back at the collar again. She would never, ever forget the moment when Dean Porter had locked the collar in place around her neck. She replayed it in memory once more now, feeling the same tingle.

She loved the room as well. There was plenty of shelf space, though Amy suspected the shelves would be full of schoolbooks and instructional disks before long. There was a TV with a puzzling remote. From some of its markings, it looked as if it might be used to select movies and satellite radio stations as well as cable channels, but Amy decided to postpone experimenting with it.

Much more fascinating was the sturdy-looking ring in the ceiling, no doubt meant for a rope, and a platform of what Amy had come to realize was the standard type for trained hanging girls, tucked away under the TV cabinet. Amy felt she was almost squirting between her legs. The dean had told her she wasn't allowed to try hanging herself until she'd been in classes, even if the students in the dorm volunteered to help. But at least maybe she could watch some of the girls here close up as they practiced.

She tried to figure out the purpose of the apparatus sitting folded up on a small shelf, one of them on the wall over the head of each bed. She'd find out soon enough, she was sure.

Behind her, she heard movement at the door of the room. Two girls, one blonde, one with reddish brown hair, wearing white bra-and-shorts outfits and "Slave Girl" collars identical to Amy's, were looking in at Amy with matching dumbfounded expressions. Clearly, they thought that nothing could be farther from the realm of possibility than to suddenly see a new classmate, eleven months into the year. The blonde asked wonderingly, "Who are you??"

She walked towards them, her hand held out. "I'm Amy Cameron. I'm really in the next year's class, but the dean is letting me stay here until classes start in September. It's a long story."

The darker-haired girl looked at Amy with a sour expression, not moving to respond to Amy's offered hand. "I'm sure it is."

Amy bit her lip. She should have thought of how unlikely it was that a close-knit, family-like group of students would accept a stranger suddenly thrust into their midst. She slowly put her hand down.

The blonde said, "And you're going to be in a room by yourself?"

Amy nodded. "I can't participate in any hanging practice until classes start, so the dean didn't see a need for me to have a partner. It's just as well, I guess, because there aren't any to choose from. As far as I know, nobody else will get here until next month."

The dark-haired one sniffed. "This was Sandy's and Bonnie's room. After Sandy got hanged at a party, Bonnie moved in with Katie and Marcia."

"I'm sorry to hear about Sandy." With so much tension in the room, Amy felt a need to touch something more comforting. She'd saved this bit of unpacking for last anyway. She turned to open the large box and reverently lifted out its occupant.

Behind her she heard two simultaneous gasps. Turning back, she saw the dark-haired girl in a half-crouch, her hands covering her mouth, her eyes wide. The blonde was staring open-mouthed. She whispered one word, with almost no wind behind it. "Miranda!"

Both girls now entered the room, walking slowly, carefully, almost stumbling over one of the beds in their concentration on the head Amy was holding. The dark-haired girl asked softly, "Where did you get her?"

"She was hanged at my house. I got to know her there." She sighed as one of her special memories of that day came back to her. "She let me oil her skin before she went out to be hanged."

The blonde looked at Amy in awe. "You did her oil?"

Amy nodded. "While Beth was doing her hair, and tying her hands."

The dark-haired girl reached out, and hesitated, looking at Amy. "Can I touch her?"

Amy blinked. "Sure."

The girl put her fingertips on Miranda's hair, stroking it very lightly.

Her eyes still glued to Miranda, the blonde said, still almost in a whisper, "She was our kicking coach, one of them, until she went to do her show. She was so good at it. Nobody else could do it like her."

The dark-haired girl giggled. "We all wanted to find out what exercises to do so our bodies could look like hers."

The blonde looked at Amy at last. "Do you... we were going down to the caf -- the cafeteria, that is -- to get some pizza. Do you want to come with us?" She held out her hand. "I'm Linda."

The dark-haired girl held hers out. "I'm Elaine. Laney, usually."

Amy smiled and shook hands with them. "Sure." She set Miranda's head on the shelf nearest the bed.

Linda started to the door, and turned back suddenly. "Oh, they did give you a food card, right? I guess they must have. How else would you eat?"

Amy looked in one of the drawers and found the newly laminated card, still warm, with her picture on it and the words "CLEARED FOR ALL MEALS." She put it in the necessarily shallow front pocket of her shorts, and nodded to Linda.

Linda smiled. "That's a relief." She gestured for Amy to follow her to the door. "We'll want to hear about Miranda's hanging. Every detail." Laney nodded, falling in behind Linda and Amy.

Amy started, as they walked down the hall, "Well, you know she was the Princess, right?"...

Read about Amy's first year at the Hanging Academy in Book 3, "Arrivals." Click here to go to Chapter 1.