The twilight of the evening had just turned to night, crickets chirping a symphony in the backdrop. Emily stood in front of her mirror, her heart pounding. She wore a cream satin robe, her lovely brown hair tumbled down her back, age having done nothing to dull its shine. Alex's voice rang out from the corridor, cracking with newfound confidence, "Mom, may I come in?" "Of course, dear," Emily's voice was steady, betraying...