They were at the house. THE house. Where it had happened. Where she had been brutalized seven years ago. Seven years ago, and tonight.How could she ha...e forgotten? James had never forgotten that date for years. She had remembered everything, and the memory had been a permanent imprint in his mind. Why had it left?Because it wasn't important, she realized. It hasn't happened yet, and it won't happen. She shook of the momentary fear that ran through her body, a chill searing the lower portions of. I knew who she was, to be sure: her name was Becky, her family lived next door to mine, and her father Paul and I had had skirmishes over minor things, his dogging shitting in my yard, his guests throwing liquor bottles over the fence. Like that.When I mentioned that, he frowned. How well, specifically, had I known the young woman?She had said hello to me, my wife, or both, on a few occasions, I replied. Honestly, I should add.My attorney frowned some more.Three weeks later, my wife had me. More

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