Xyla Quest leaned against the wall, watching an eighteen-year-old young man dancing in the practice room from across while she spoke to Stanley Batton on the phone. “What’s up, Honey? Did you miss me?”

The teenager was wearing a loose-fitting white t-shirt and a pair of loose black pants. He seemed full of youthful energy.

She could see his face through the mirror, and he looked immaculate and gentle but not weak. He was an attractive young man.

He reminded her of a younger Josh Batton, Xyla