Angel of the Morning

Ten thousand souls must have danced here, I thought feeling the floor creak under my feet. Memories were smudged onto the glass framed photos next to my table.
 
A girl sang Karaoke. Her voice soared with unexpected respect for the ballad I remembered it from my mother’s record player. “Maybe the sun's light will be dim, and it won't matter anyhow.” The clock on the wall said we were approaching 2 a.m. Her lips shined with a knowing smile. “If morning's echo says we've sinned. Well, it was what I wanted now.”
 
Is she all of 19? She saw me smile.