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Sometimes, her friends would look in on me and look me over. Suddenly I was someone to be judged and examined whereas before I was one of the anonymous transfer students. Some looked approvingly while others examined me like pondscum in a specimen dish. I didn’t realize that I had asked out one of the inner-circle of Laurel High’s “in crowd”. At dinner, she said she was a woman of secrets. She spoke slowly, articulately. She, too, was a transfer student whose mother divorced her father two years earlier while stationed in Annapolis. He was a submarine commander, I believe, and neither she nor her mother were particularly keen on the idea of missing him for six to nine months out of the year. She said that if he couldn’t choose them over the service, she wouldn’t spend her life or support her mother dedicating her time to waiting for him to resurface. “For a woman of secrets,” I replied. “That’s pretty telling.” She smiled. Some of those secrets involved driving to Fredericksburg – 15. It didn't fit."You said no one uses the door," Christine whispered. "What's going on? Who are they?"My heart beat wildly. "Let me do the talking," I hissed back; hearing, listening. Another key, and this one turned. It was stiff. The door needed oiling. But it turned.Oh Jesus.Where had they got these keys from? Who were they?Christine screamed. She tried not to scream and the noise became tangled in her mouth from the moment it left her throat, cut off by her fear, but I heard it. I heard it in my head and my soul. This was the worst of her nightmares. She was to be found in my cave: naked, starving, vulnerable, and about to be carted off to the guillotine. "Shut up!" I barked at her, pulling my decaying jacket around her nakedness, and covering up the worst of her gauntness. "Just follow along with what I say."The door opened slowly to reveal the outlines of two men, commoners, one tall, the other squat; one with a sword, the other with a pike. They were bathed in brilliant white.
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