Beeps. Voices.Her heart raced. Oh, the sting. The pain.The tears ran down her cheeks. Someone swiped them away with a rough cloth. Her face burned, especially just below her lip.Scorching. White-hot throbbing.A doctor prying her eyes open to shine a light in them. Bright, too bright. His voice calm, soothing, asking her if she remembered the wreck.The crash.Momee! Papa!Alyssa sat upright, the sheet twisted into a tight wad at her feet. Another nightmare. She shook her head. It’d been years since she’d had one. Three, to be exact—the last time she’d visited. Just being in Lagniappe brought her nightmares back full force.The bayou’s chief export was pain. Always had been, always would be.Alyssa moved to the bedroom window and watched the wind rip dried leaves from the limbs. The storm had passed through the night, escorting in a cold front. Alyssa shook her head. Yeah, right. A cold front in Lagniappe? Not hardly. Then again, she’d have said there weren’t any attractive, good men here, either.
