New York’s entertainment district was jam packed that Friday night, but that hadn’t stopped twenty-one year old Èrabèlle Skylark from getting past the long lineup outside. She was a beautiful brunette with mahogany eyes, creamy fair skin, with a small beauty mark above the left corner of her lip. Onyx nightclub was filled with fog, flashing strobe lights, and dancing sweaty bodies. Synthesized bass pounded from the mounte...