Parents had some kind of sin radar, Claire thought. They always called when you were in the middle of something you just knew they'd consider wrong. Or at least risky. Claire Danvers slid off of her boyfriend Shane's lap with a regretful sigh, licked her damp, tingling lips, and went to answer the ringing phone in the kitchen. Michael was just getting up from the table to grab it, but Claire waved him off. She just knew it would be her mother. She was right. "Claire! Oh my goodness, I've been worried sick, honey. We've been trying to call you on your cell for days, and -- " Crap. Claire rubbed her forehead in frustration. "Mom, I wrote you guys an email, remember? My cell got lost, I'm still working on getting another one." Best not to mention how it had gotten lost. Best not to mention anything about how dangerous her life had gotten since she'd moved to Morganville, Texas. "Oh," Mom said, and then, more slowly, "oh. Well, your father forgot to tell me about that. You know, he's the one who checks the email. I don't like computers." "Yes, Mom, I know." Mom really wasn't that bad, but she was notoriously nervous with computers, and for good reason; they had a tendency to short out around her. Mom was still talking. "Is everything going