"Reaction from alcohol withdrawal," Alicia said, raising one eyebrow. "Well, that's to be expected. You won't find any babying here, Cindy. We all believe in developing discipline. That's the key." She raised a threatening finger and pointed it at the girl as if it were a knife. Cindy wished she could have sunk right through the bright blue carpeting under her feet. "We've taken the liberty to search your luggage, even though your parents assured us that they had gone through your belongings before you came here." Alicia patted her bunned hair. "Your things are in your room. An attendant will take you there. Of course, you'll be expected to adhere to our schedule. All our girls do."

Alicia's monologue was interrupted by the sound of the back door opening. Turning around, Cindy found herself face to face with a tall, stockily-built attendant dressed in white pants and coat. There was nothing particularly attractive about him. His small cold blue eyes, round pock-marked face and sensuous thick lips seemed to be in place with the forbidding nature of this place.

"You can take Miss McArthur to her room now. She needs time to get her things in order. We'll see you later, Cindy, to talk about our schedule here," Alicia said, her voice following the trembling girl out into the ball.

"This way," the attendant said, taking her roughly by the shoulder and directing her down the long, tiled corridor.

Cindy flinched under the hard grip of that warm paw digging into her slender shoulders. She had never felt so naked, so exposed and vulnerable before in her life. Watching her parents' car drive down the long curved road over the hills back to Los Angeles, the young teen had felt as if she'd been abandoned to the world.