Her hands trembled as she lifted the heavy, crystal glass to her lips. Taking a long sip, Dorothy tipped her head back, allowing the pills to slide down her throat.

The world was fuzzy around the edges. She felt weak. Loud music, a song she could only vaguely identify, boomed in her ringing ears. Pounding, her headache had gotten worse.

Inside the club, it was hot. Her short, curly, brown hair was plastered to her forehead. The underarms of her brand new black dress were more than damp. Her feet were practically begging to be taken out of the strappy black heels she sported.

The vodka and tonic was cool against her lips and her tongue as she swallowed another gulp. Cool, but not much relief.

A hand touched her elbow, startling her.

“Dorothy? Are you alright, honey?” The voice, a deep, masculine whisper in her ear. It sounded familiar yet she had trouble placing it. “Here, let’s go have a seat and another drink…”

The sentence trailed off as she was led to a corner booth. She did not protest.