Sam Beason, class of 1988, sauntered into his old locker room. Not much has changed in fifteen years, he thought. He was back in Danville for the funeral of his Mom's only sibling, Jean Grogan.
Roxie Bennett, twenty-seven, felt she had lived twice that long. Life was dreary. Her plain attire, mousy brown hair, and close-set eyes did little to distinguish her from the crowd.
The soft blue stage lights silhouetted her. The small and intimate club was packed with eager fans, silent in anticipation, patiently waiting for their musical journey to begin.
