My counselor, Jan, shook me. “Joy, wake up. It’s time,” she whispered.
Nodding slowly, I unzipped my sleeping bag, tucked a towel under my arm, and crawled out of bed to join the other Clippers shuffling sleepily toward the door. No one switched on a light or pulled out a flashlight.
We needed the darkness.
Outside, the crescent moon shone over the Pacific, its points sharp and menacing.
“I don’t know about this,” Jodi said.
“Shh!” Jan warned.
“But…”
“If you wake anyone up,” Gina rasped in her ear, “so help me God, I’ll say it was all your idea.”
Jodi raised her hands and shut up.
We tiptoed down the path toward the cliff stairs. Every once in a while, a girl would kick a pebble and we’d all freeze, looking back for the inevitable explosion of spotlights. Judging by the hard breat
