She would never be etched in stone. She would never be published or written about. She would never even be described. Immortality certainly not, and even the transience of being mentioned would be cheerfully and finally refused. Her files were stamped CONFIDENTIAL.

She was admitted in critical condition. She was treated and nursed back to consciousness. From her first hazy moment of awakening she was asked who had beaten her. Was he angered, seduced, invited, talked into an extra drink, male? Had he been employed by anyone, married to anyone, related to anyone? Once he was identified, he would be apprehended, put in custody, photographed, fingerprinted, questioned, scrutinized, and examined. Who had battered her? She was asked to identify him. They had to be told. She was wrapped in more bandages than she felt necessary while being soothed, sedated, sponged, sterilized, and squeezed for information. A man like that, it was declared, was not to be trusted and should be handed over. He had been raised wrong. He had been accountable to no one and had been allowed to get away with too much.

She was finally persuaded. He was apprehended. Their house was searched. Evidence was turned up. Patients in her condition are not admitted since Proposition 187 was passed.