No One Heard Her Scream

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Somewhere in her heart, Danielle Montgomery knew this was wrong, and her guilt had a face. Momma's face. Memories of her mother flashed in her head with a steady and persistent rhythm.

"I swear, it's the Catholic guilt," she said to herself. She took a deep breath and fiddled with the senior class ring on her finger. "What's the use of regular confession if a girl has nothing new to say?"

She held a wrist up to the dim glow of a streetlamp and looked at her watch. Twenty minutes late. Had she misunderstood his instructions? In the back of her mind, a bigger question plagued her. Why had she promised to meet him like this?

He was a stranger who'd hit on her at the beach. The attention of a college boy, especially in front of her classmates, made her feel special. She'd been a sucker for his gorgeous blue eyes, but she had a notion Momma wouldn't have been so impressed. Maybe that was the whole point. Now Danielle paced by the side entrance to the club, flicking ashes from a cigarette, another rebellious rite of passage Momma wouldn't approve.

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