Elder Dalton walked into the temple hastily and nervously, fidgeting with his tie clip to get it to stay straight. He’d been taught his whole life the importance of being neatly groomed and presentable, especially when meeting with the priesthood. Dalton could not have been a more impressive model of Mormon, fitting the look and manner of a disciplined missionary perfectly. Still, his anxiety about falling even momentarily short of the ideals to which he’d been raised coursed through his body, making his fingers slightly shake as he worked to right himself. Bishop Hart watched as the intense boy made...