Violated VirginChapter 8
Suzanne lay on her bed, staring out the wide window at the whitecapped Detroit River. In the distance a lonely tug broke the silence with its mournful hoot, and a flock of birds was silhouetted against the clouds, flying north to Canada. She stretched, lifting her arms lazily; she smiled, and snuggled back against the pillow. For the hundredth time, she reached for the letter on the nightstand, opened it and read, an extra smile of pleasure creasing her face. A brief knock at the door...