Maggie Conley ignored the evening drizzle, the potholes, and the glaring headlights, impatient to cross the Homestead Bridge. A woman on a mission, she was late for meeting her friends outside Chiodo’s Tavern. After all, she was the ringleader. Thank God, she had her older sister’s ID in her wallet. Still, she self-consciously touched the gold cross dangling from her neck. Sneaking out on a dare was one thing, entering a bar with a someone else’s ID another.
