Cloe Lestrange
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- 131
Striding down the cobbled street, Cloe peered over her shoulder every so often to make sure she was not being followed. With a final sigh of relief, she stepped into a little, but thankfully deserted, pub at the very end of the alley. Quickly taking a seat near the back of the room, she stiffly waved away the bartender as he stumbled forward to take her order. Grumpily he strode back behind the counter and continued wiping down dusty glasses, glaring at Cloe as though he were deciding on whether to kick her out now for the useless customer she was.
Cloe fumbled with her wand under the table, trying not to appear too anxious in meeting a thirteen year old. But what could she do? This particular thirteen year old had been the daughter of her beloved friend Anasa Green who had died many years before. Cloe owed it to her living memory to at least see to it that her only daughter was coping alright.
As the minutes wore on, Cloe sat very still in her seat, her eyes still fixed on the pub door.
Cloe fumbled with her wand under the table, trying not to appear too anxious in meeting a thirteen year old. But what could she do? This particular thirteen year old had been the daughter of her beloved friend Anasa Green who had died many years before. Cloe owed it to her living memory to at least see to it that her only daughter was coping alright.
As the minutes wore on, Cloe sat very still in her seat, her eyes still fixed on the pub door.