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...p;     "Lorna Janet Pivette," he paused with deliberate emphasis, and opened the box. The diamond ring shone in the twilight. "May I take your hand in marr--"

            The sport utility vehicle hit him straight on, as the driver tossed a beer bottle out the window. The glass bottle hit Lorna on the forehead, and she fell backwards into the ditch, unconscious. The man's laughter and the manslaughter, echoing in her mind.

            Justin Kerne fell in bloody pieces at the opposite side of the road, forty feet away, dead at the end of a red smear. The man in the SUV just kept driving. He had not even noticed the bug that had hit his windshield.

            She craved solace.

            A golden diamond ring fell, sparkling, to the dirt road.

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