It was a piece of torn paper, with your house address written in blue ballpoint. The handwriting looked just like Annie’s. You asked her about it, ...ut she said she had no idea where it had come from. You accepted this, but perhaps a dark thought went through your mind, just then. A fleeting suspicion.What if she too had found someone to flirt with at the Waltham’s party? Suppose she had met some well-built fellow her own age, and they had gotten to talking, then stepped outside for some fresh. Connie woke with a start. Apparently she had forgotten to fully pull the curtain last night (although to be honest, she didn't completely remember coming to bed after last night's bath). The morning sun had sent tendrils streaming across her bed to play with the loose folds of the summer blanket. Grumbling quietly to herself she pulled the sheet over her head and buried her face in the pillow. She strained to pull tears from her eyes, or sobs from her throat as the faint throbbing in her. More

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