Twenty-NineIt had been a long night, and not because dreams interfered with my sleep, but because the excitement of spending the weekend in London roused me every couple of hours. Every time my eyes popped open and looked at the clock, disappointment followed. There was still plenty of time for sleep.
Finally, by four-thirty, I climbed out of bed, tired of waiting. However, instead of heading out to the kitchen for my ritualistic cup of coffee, I headed into the bathroom and took a hot and longer-than-usual shower. There was plenty of time to waste since I'd packed my bag the night before.
I stepped out from the shower stall, allowing the steam to billow out behind me, as apprehension began to build. Though I had grown used to seeing a different and distorted reflection of myself, it was
