As Sylvester sat among the shadows of the unlit nursery, his thoughts had scrummed down to uncharted territory, and his emotions dined with chaos.

Suspended in the pending dilemma, he was left feeling like a violent whirlwind that was trapped inside a chrysalis. Like he was a brewing storm, imprisoned within a thick layer of dying skin, gaining force and momentum by the second, he was faced with an impossible choice: calm the typhoon within, forcing a sense of serenity over it and allowing things to go back to how they had once been, familiar and safe, or let the emotion burst through his skin, rebirthing him in a new...