sixty-four.

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The heels of my shoes clicked against the linoleum floor as I held a folder full of papers close to my chest to be rest assured that they wouldn't crumple

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The heels of my shoes clicked against the linoleum floor as I held a folder full of papers close to my chest to be rest assured that they wouldn't crumple. The pencil skirt I chose to wear kept riding up my thighs despite the length that hugged my knees. I pulled the skirt down once more before turning the corner down another hall.

Today was my interview. I didn't know how anxious I would've been inside another school, but my throat hadn't closed up yet so that was a win for me. Truthfully, it was the last thing that I was worried about in hindsight; I should've been thinking about all the answers to the questions they were going to ask me, but instead all I could think about was Harry.

This morning when I woke up, he was still asleep. It wasn't like him, though I had to remind myself that he went to sleep yet, but even if he had gone to bed late he still found a way to wake up before eight.

After I had gotten ready for my interview, I made us breakfast despite him still being in his own slumber. I ate alone this morning with the lingering thoughts of what happened last night. I couldn't stop myself from staring at the same spot on the floor where I held him through his emotional breakdown.

I knew that recovery was a long road that someone had to go down by themselves, but I hated that I wasn't able to walk down that road with him. He was always going to have me to hold his hand and support him, but it just made me worried that I wasn't able to be around him more often to watch over him.

It just made me incredibly nervous.

Knocking myself from my thoughts, I stopped in front of the front office door. Doing a quick once over with my outfit and straightening my hair up, my fingers wrapped around the doorknob and pushed it open with a bright smile on my lips. I'd look dead if it wasn't for all of the concealer I used this morning.

There was a lady at the front desk, a name plate that spelled out Robin.

"Hi!" I chirped lightly as I approached the desk, "I'm here for an interview with Mayra...?"

Robin looked up from her desk, she was a redhead with bright red lipstick and unblended brown eyeshadow on her eyes. I didn't judge; she was older, though. Robin looked to be around my age, though much more tidy with her brown pleated dress suit and white pearls that dangled around her neck.

"Oh, are you Anna?" Robin smiled, she had a thick accent on her, but I couldn't place from where, "We've been waiting for you!"

"Hopefully not too long," I chuckled lowly, my fingers were picking my cuticles again out of nervous habit, "I tried to come early, but traffic–,"

"It's not a problem, the traffic in the area can be terrible around this time," Robin scolded, recalling the many times she had been stuck in it too, "I messaged Mayra, she should come get you soon. You can have a seat, if you'd like!"

"Thanks!" I offered a smile, twirling on my heel towards the row of seats.

Before I could even find a seat, my name was being called from the room to the left of me.

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