“What’s your theory, Pierre? You’re smart. You should have something in mind,” asks President Bear. 

I try to loosen the knot of the ropes that tie me to the wooden pole, deeply buried into the grassy ground. It loosens, but not unfastened enough for me to break free. The five guards sneer and form the shape of a crescent around myself and the president, while Grace Mo stands afar, watching with glee. 

“We should threaten him,” demands Grace.  ...