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<P>What was there to say, Renee wondered bitterly. Either they were in pink clouds at the beginning of a trip, or they were in agony. Friendship had become unimportant to her, to both of them.
<P>Renee almost cried with joy when the door opened and Manuel came into the room.
<P>Moving without fuss, he unfastened Fran and then came over and took the straps off Renee. "You both can go now," he said grandly.
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<P>Fran and Renee both stood, naked and trembling, afraid to believe their ears.
<P>"Go on," Manuel smiled at them. "Little ones, run home to mother."
<P>Staring at each other, Fran and Renee both started sobbing at once. Tears of joy, sorrow, and of frustration. At last the nightmare had come to an end.
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<P>Grabbing Fran's hand blindly with hers, Renee started backing toward the door, afraid to thrust the pimp long enough to turn her back. It was a trick, she thought, and steeled herself for the shock of finding the door locked.
<P>But the latch clicked firmly when she turned the handle. Peering outside in the corridor, Renee saw no one.
<P>"Come on, Fran," she cried happily, "we're going home!"
<P>"Haven't you forgotten something?"
<P>Manuel took the hypodermic needle out of his pocket and held it up to the light. "A good-bye kiss, maybe."
<P>Renee felt her resolve slipping away. "Come on, Fran," she urged. But the older woman just stood and shivered, her eyes frozen to that clear cylinder of liquid the Mexican was holding.
<P>Fran?"
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