St. Louis.

Emerald was in St. Louis for the first time in her life. She could have seen the sights, but she only wanted to do one thing: see a show. She could only stay a day over the weekend since she had to work on Monday.

To have time to fight through the traffic Emerald left her house early, and she sighed with relief when she got to the Fox Theater. She parked her car and entered the theater. She got a playbill for the show and everything she needed to do before she found her seat. She couldn't wait for the show to start.

The show that was playing that night was Andrew Lloyd Webber's The Phantom of the Opera. Emerald had always wanted to see it, and even though it took her a few months to save the money, she was determined to go at least once. Now, here she was, excited and at the edge of her seat.

From the beginning to the end, she was enraptured and amazed. It was a dream come true for her. When the actors took their bows, she stood up with tears in her eyes and applauded. It was the greatest night of her life.

Being careful not to bump into anyone in the swarm of people leaving the theater, she headed toward the exit. She didn't want to get home too late; she hated driving after dark, but tonight, it was worth it. Even though she was paying attention to her surroundings, she suddenly got distracted by something strange. Was that...a moving, black piece of cloth? She saw it for only a moment, but that moment was long enough for her to become curious. She headed in the direction of where she saw it, but when she got to the spot where it had been, she couldn't see it anywhere. Then, she shook her head. She had been seeing things.

As she headed toward the exit, she felt something move under her shoe. She looked down and picked it up. It was an envelope with no name or address on it. Maybe it was for one of the actors and someone had dropped it.

She knew she shouldn't.

She knew it was wrong.

She had to, though. Something told her that she had to.

The young woman opened the envelope and unfolded the paper that was inside. It said, "Emerald, I know what your dreams are."

She shook. It was for her. It HAD to be for her. She didn't know anyone who had her name since it was rather unique, so she was quite sure that the note was directed toward her.

Questions raced through her head. Who wrote this note? How could they know what her dreams were? Why hadn't someone else picked up the note before she had? Even though these questions plagued her mind, she had to get out of the theater so she could get home. She put the note in her purse and quickly left the theater to go home.