The last things she remembers are water, pressure, air fleeing her lungs like light at sunset--
And then she's not drowning, she's seated in a café with a table of women.
"It's your first time?" one asks, her but not, an "X" over her heart and birds of prey in her eyes.
"'Course it is," another one says, her but not, years younger and hoops in her ears. "See? Shocked silent."
"Where am I?" she manages to ask.
"You," the third one says--not her, there's Scott in her eyes too, "are in for one heck of a secret."
And then she's not drowning, she's seated in a café with a table of women.
"It's your first time?" one asks, her but not, an "X" over her heart and birds of prey in her eyes.
"'Course it is," another one says, her but not, years younger and hoops in her ears. "See? Shocked silent."
"Where am I?" she manages to ask.
"You," the third one says--not her, there's Scott in her eyes too, "are in for one heck of a secret."
