“Ladies, this is Lily,” Tamsin said with a flourish, completing the introductions.

I got as comfortable as the chair would permit, and crossed my arms over my chest, waiting to see what would happen. Tamsin seemed to be counting us. She looked out the door and down the hall as if she expected someone else to come, frowned, and said, “All right, let’s get started. Everyone got coffee, or whatever you wanted to drink? Okay, good job!” Tamsin Lynd took a deep breath. “Some of you just got raped. Some of you got raped years ago. Sometimes, people just need to know others have been through the same thing. So would each one of you tell us a little about what has happened to you?”

I cringed inside, wishing very strongly that I could evaporate and wake up at my little house, not much over a mile from here.

Somehow I knew Sandy McCorkindale would be the first to speak, and I was right.

“Ladies,” she began, her voice almost as professionally warm and welcoming as her husband’s was from the pulpit, “I’m Sandy McCorkindale, and my husband is the pastor of Shakespeare Combined Church.”

We all nodded. Everyone knew that church.

“Well, I was hurt a long, long time ago,” Sandy said with a social smile. In a galaxy far, far, away? “When I had just started college.”

We waited, but Sandy didn’t say anything else. She kept up the smile. Tamsin didn’t act as though she was going to demand Sandy be any more forthcoming. Instead, she turned to Janet, who was sitting next to her.

“Lily and I are workout buddies,” Janet told Tamsin.

“Oh, really? That’s great!” Tamsin beamed.

“She knows I got raped, but not anything else,” Janet said slowly.