Monique was worldly wise to an extent, but she was weak underneath – and Hank spotted that the moment she came into the bar, blinking in the dim light after the sun outside. She went to the bar and asked for a drink, hoping they wouldn't ask her age or demand some identification. A large, but friendly looking man served her at once and slowly walked down the bar to the phone, where he nodded pleasantly to some of his other customers and made a call. Monique reveled in her new freedom. She ordered another drink, and she grinned at the several husky men sitting around watching the ball game.

The alcohol started to go to her head. She was feeling better and better and didn't notice the police car pulling up outside the bar. She wondered at her cleverness, even as the burly cop came in through the door and the nice bartender converged on her with him.

"Let's see some ID, Miss," said the cop, leaning over the bar and looking her straight in the face.

Fear swept over Monique. She was trapped.

"Er… er… yes, officer," she said hurriedly as she dug into her bag. "I think I must have left it at home."

"Serious offense, Miss," said the cop. "Drinking under age. You could get this owner here a big fine and the loss of his license for that." He leaned over the bar farther and reached in his pocket for his book.

All the coolness that Monique had vanished in that moment. She burst into tears.

"Please don't send me back," she sobbed. "And where would 'back' be?" asked the cop, his voice sounding almost friendly but his gaze as steely as ever.

"Packard School," Monique sobbed.

"And why wouldn't you want to go back to such a nice place?" the cop went on.