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OCTOBER 28, 2007
The day after Homecoming
“What is going on out here, young lady? Who are you?”
Startled awake, Penny shields her face from the sun penetrating her eyelids. She blinks. A cloud of haze impairs her vision as an imposing figure stands over her in his robe and slippers. “Where am I?”
“Dear Lord! Don’t move. I’ll be back.”
The hint of concern in the man’s muffled voice barely registers as pain bursts from the back of her skull. She groans. It feels as if she’s descending upon the gates of hell. “My head... what happened?”
A car door slams, and she slowly sits up. Vertigo renders her nauseous. Planting her palms into the ground, she steadies herself.
As her vision clears, she scans her surroundings. Roses and ornamental bushes teem across acres of manicured lawn. A black, wrought iron security fence borders the perimeter, and she’s only a few feet outside it.
She tries to sit on her knees, but dizziness grounds her. Everything is moving in slow motion. Confusion jumbles her thoughts. “What is wrong with me?”
“Hold on, now. Easy does it.” The man returns, wrapping a blanket around her shoulders. His voice sounds less angry. “Can you stand?”
Glancing up at him, she blinks rapidly. “M-mr. Sparks?” She swallows hard. “Where am I?”
His formidable expression turns soft. “You’re on my front lawn, dear.”
Closing her eyes, she shakes her head. “I can’t be. I was at the dance.”
Wasn’t I?
She presses her fingers to her temples. She was dancing with Luke. And waiting for Brandon to return with a cup of punch. He’d given her a drink. She’d spilled it on her dress and had gone to the bathroom to clean up.
And then what?
She looks down. Horror wraps around her heart at the ragged state of her dress—or what’s left of it. The bodice is ripped, exposing part of her breast. The skirt is shredded, and her bra and panties are missing. Blood is smeared across her legs.
She bursts into tears. Pulling the blanket around her shoulders self-consciously, she draws her knees up to cover herself. “What happened to me?”
Kneeling next to her, Mr. Sparks pats her on the back. With his phone to his ear, he mutters, “Stay still. I’m calling an ambulance.”
She lies upon the ground, curling into fetal position. Her private areas throb with a dull ache. For the first time in her life, she needs her mother.
She splays her fingers across the grass. Where is my handbag? “My phone is gone!”
“Sh, don’t worry. I’m calling Joe Donovan.”
Bolting up, she shakes her head vehemently. Her once beautifully styled curls drift to her shoulders haphazardly. “No! Please, sir! Not Captain Donovan. Just call my mother.”
Nodding, he pats her foot.
Sirens blare in the distance. Loneliness jackknifes through Penny’s heart. Laying her head upon the dewy grass, she buries her face in her arms. Sharp stings radiate from her thighs, and she sobs harder.
There is only one explanation for her ragged state.
Her thoughts whir. This couldn’t have been an accident. After years of planning horrible pranks and the multiple threats by Christy’s minions, not to mention the recent journal theft, her bullies had set her up with a guy who had raped her.
She cries harder. It had been her first dance. Her first real date. They went too far.
This was it. Life at the bottom with no way back to the top.
What’s the point of living?
*****
TWO HOURS LATER
“We still can’t get your mother on the phone, Ms. Ramsay. Is there anyone else we can call? An aunt or a sibling? A neighbor?”
As one of the nurses bustles around the bed taking vitals, Penny shakes her head. She doesn’t want Colt to know about this. He’d storm back to Rochester Hills, looking for Brandon what’s-his-face, threatening to kill him. Colt can’t afford to spend time in jail.
And who else cares about her? Honestly, she just wants to go home and erase the entire night from her memory
The hospital monitors buzz as nurses come and go. Gowned and gloved, a few of them stand by with the rape kit spread across a stainless-steel tray. They’d cleaned the blood from her thighs and removed what was left of her dress.
She pulls the blanket higher. Her body trembles. The hospital gown they’d given her isn’t enough. She feels too exposed.
“Get her another heated blanket, Michelle.” The woman fluffs Penny’s pillow. “Surely, there’s someone we can call.”
Penny soughs. “I have nobody besides my mother.” The nurse pats her on the shoulder with a look of pity, and Penny closes her eyes. She doesn’t have the energy to fight back the tears.
“The police are here. Are you ready to talk to them?”
Penny winces. What can she say? She has no clue what happened. A flash of dark stains her vision, and echoes of laughter and animal sounds fill the void. Her pulse accelerates as she tries to dislodge the memories from her mind.
They aren’t real. This is all a bad dream. Right?
A cramp steals through her midsection, and she draws her knees toward her chest. “C-can I talk to them tomorrow? I don’t feel well.”
Compassion oozing from her eyes, the nurse squeezes Penny’s hand. “Are you in pain?”
Penny presses her lips together, praying to keep the tears at bay. Her private areas ache. “A little.”
The nurse nods. “Let me see what I can do.”
She leaves, and Penny glances around the sterile hospital room. Dread and fear bleed together as she tries once more to recall anything about last night. The only real memory she has is dancing with Luke.
At least it’s a good one.
Tears spill down her cheeks. Unless he’d been in on this nightmare too. He is Christy’s boyfriend. They could have planned this all along. They had invited her to Hannah’s and said they’d meet her there. Maybe he doesn’t care about her as much as he says he does.
Honestly, it doesn’t matter. Christy and Hannah got what they wanted. They’d humiliated Penny to the point of breaking.
I never want to see any of them again.
“Where is my daughter? I demand to see her at once!”
Penny wipes the tears from her eyes and steels herself for the destructive force of Miranda Ramsay. The door swings open. She enters, her hair styled perfectly and wearing her Sunday best, as she saunters toward the bed.
The deep lines around her lips pucker. “What in the hell happened to you?”
Gripping the sheets tighter, Penny shrugs. “I don’t know.”
Standing next to her, Miranda darts a quick glance over her shoulder. The nurse exits the doors. Miranda seizes the back of Penny’s arm and hauls her closer. “I told you your curfew was 11:00 PM. Where were you all night?”
She pinches the already bruised flesh, and a lump bobbles at Penny’s throat. Nobody will believe her if she says she can’t remember anything. She closes her eyes and swallows. “I-I was at the dance. At least, I thought I was.”
“You little slut! I won’t have this, understood? Drinking, drugs, sleeping out all night...”
Stifling the urge to go unhinged, Penny clamps her lips shut. It won’t do any good to argue. Miranda already has her opinions set in stone.
As the doctor pushes through the door with the nurse, Miranda releases Penny and quickly steps away.
The man gives Penny a somber smile. “Can we talk about what happened? What do you remember from last night?”
Penny curls her fingers into tight fists, willing herself not to cry. “I was at Homecoming. I was dancing with a friend, and then he left with his date. I sat down. My date brought me a drink.”
The doctor stops her. “There were traces of heavy sedatives in your system. Is it possible you were drugged?”
She frowns. Had Brandon laced her drink with something? She was so nervous after Luke had asked her to dance, she’d downed the first cup of punch in two gulps. Brandon had brought her another one.
She rubs her temples, unable to stop the tears. “I don’t know. They didn’t taste funny. But I spilled punch on my dress, so I went to the bathroom. That’s the last thing I remember.”
Eyeing the nurse, the doctor hands Penny a tissue. “And you don’t know how the blood got on your legs?” She shakes her head. He sighs. “Are you sexually active?”
Penny’s pulse thrums against her neck. “N-no! I-I’m a...”
“You’ve never had intercourse.” Her hands quiver as he gives her a somber look. “Your hymen isn’t intact.”
Miranda’s eyes narrow. “Jesus! Are you telling me my daughter was raped?”
“She doesn’t remember it and isn’t sexually active. Our labs show she has heavy doses of sedatives in her system. I’d say the chances are probable.”
Penny bursts out crying. It isn’t anything she doesn’t already know, but to hear it from a medical professional? She can’t take this anymore. All she wants to do is crawl into bed, hide under the covers, and never show her face anywhere.
Ever.
Her arms and limbs shake uncontrollably as her mother’s shrill voice and the doctor’s pleas for calm become muddled.
A definitive buzzing fills Penny’s head. Her chest heaves, pain ricocheting through her like a ping-pong ball. Black spots invade her vision. Her heart rate spikes, and dizziness grounds her once more.
I can’t breathe.
Thrashing against the stifling sheets, she sucks in several breaths. “What is wrong with me?”
A sudden heat races through her veins, and her eyes flutter closed. The sound of her mother’s voice is the last thing she hears as the deafening noise of the nurses rushing around her fades.
She welcomes the darkness.