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there.
    “Hello? Crystal?” she called, the fine hairs at the
nape of her neck lifting as though they had been electrified. Her roommate had
gone out of town for a few days with her boyfriend, so she didn’t see how it
could be her.
    Only deathly silence answered her call.
    She let out her breath, chuckling at herself for
being so ridiculous. Nobody was here.
    Walking down the short hall to her room, she hung
her lavender backpack up on its peg and set her cute little violet laptop on
her desk before turning her attention to her closet. Today she had worn a
knee-length jeans skirt and a cream tank top to school. They were okay for
school, but not really appropriate for her date tonight. She only had to sift
through her things for a few moments before she picked out a nice blouse and skirt
combination. She wasn’t attracted to Eric—a boy she knew from school—but she
gave every guy a chance. And part of giving a guy a chance was that she would
put in an effort to look as presentable as possible.
    It was as she was stepping into her blush pink,
ruffled knee-length prairie skirt that she realized that her room had been
disturbed. Everything looked in its place, but she just had the feeling that someone had been in here rummaging through her things. Maybe it was that
her room smelled different. It had a faint masculine musk to it that didn’t
belong….
    “Hello?” she called again as she walked into the
hall, quickly buttoning up her cap-sleeved white eyelet blouse in case someone was watching her. She didn’t want someone to see her partially naked. That was supposed to wait for marriage.
    Again, nothing stirred. What was with her lately?
First she’d thought that her teacher was warning her with his eyes, then she’d
thought that she’d seen Mr. Adamson in her class, and now she thought
someone was in her apartment going through her things? She must be going crazy.
It’s not like she knew whether it ran in her family or not.
    Satisfied that she was just paranoid after she’d
peeked into Crystal’s disgustingly filthy room, she made her way down to the
bathroom to finish getting ready—she must just be imagining the smell because
her mind had been on Mr. Adamson so much lately. She didn’t know what he
smelled like because the club was full of scents she didn’t want to
smell, but maybe it was another trick her mind was playing on her—lately, it
certainly had been doing that plenty.
    After brushing her teeth, Hara pulled open her
makeup drawer. She didn’t wear much makeup outside of work—basically only for
dates, which she still didn’t wear much for. Today she threw some charcoal
eyeliner around her wisteria-colored eyes, mascara on her already long, thick
black lashes, and a rose lip stain. She had perfect, dewy ivory skin with a
natural flush so she didn’t need anything else. Now just for her hair….
    Sometimes her hair drove her insane. It was
long—skimming her hips—and thick, its natural waves so perfect that people
continually asked her to cut it to sell to them so they could use it for a
weave. She wouldn’t ever do that but, days like today where it just drove her
bonkers by getting in the way, she pondered donating it for cancer patients.
    Not having the patience to deal with it, she left it
down to do whatever it pleased rather than attempt to tame it. Now finished,
she ran to put on some shoes. She was taller than Eric by several inches, so
she threw on some black ballet flats. She didn’t put on any jewelry; she didn’t
have her ears pierced and never wore anything other than the cross necklace
Father Carroll had given her when she’d left the orphanage.
    “Now remember, Hara,” he’d said that warm spring
day, “people out there are not always honest and true. The world has its way of
getting its claws into you until you’re a part of her. Don’t ever forget where
you came from as well as God’s love for you and you’ll be all right. Anytime
you feel the Beast working