With that Anna stepped from the room, her black heels clacking against the brightly polished tiles of the first floor.

Lisa could have sat down on the narrow bunk and wept. It wasn't her fault. None of it was. She wasn't behind the wheel. She hadn't even gone in and bought the bottle. But her parents had been so horrified, they felt a stay in a place like this would straighten her out, as her father had coldly told to the judge. Straighten out? Hadn't they looked at this so-called halfway house before they'd committed her? The outside reminded Lisa of an eighteenth century mansion – all gray stone with high, narrow windows. The grounds in front were well kept, edged with tall, graceful trees, and small round islands of brightly colored flowers broke up the manicured green of the sloping lawn. It was, all in all, rather pleasant, until you stood at the front steps. Then the enormity of the building and its stony severity chilled you to the bone. All the gardens, trees and grass didn't cover the horrid nastiness that seemed to waft from the building.

Lisa sniffed, putting her small suitcase down next to the wooden nightstand and turning to the small bureau to her right. Pulling open the top drawer, she saw the shapeless gray uniform the matron had been talking about. Lisa felt as if she were in prison. Reform? There was nothing else, she saw only fear and a severity that made her flesh crawl.

"Oh God, please help me!" she whispered, saying a little prayer as she shrugged off her blouse and skirt, folding them up carefully and pulling out the gray thing tossed into the drawer. "How could this – have happened?"

Lisa whispered the question as she slipped the gown over her head, straightening it as best she could. In the hall, she heard several footsteps shuffle past her locked door. Stiffening, Lisa thought it might be that dreadful Anna coining for her. Nothing. Relaxing once more, she sat on the edge of her tiny cot, wondering what they would do to her here at the school, and if she would survive.