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My feet hit the pavement, my body jarring with every step. Wind sweeps through my ponytail as I run down the sidewalk, I breathe heavily as I finally come to a stop. Delilah waves at me through the window of the cafe, taps on her watch, warning me of the time. With a nod of my head, I disappear up the stairs and into my tiny apartment. Its mostly empty, apart from a few essentials. Something Delilah pointed out to me anytime she came up for a drink after work.

When I came to Delilah just under a month ago looking for a job, she took one look at me and hired me on the spot. Or she hired eighteen-year-old Arianna Black on the spot anyway. Then, when I let slip I was in search of a cheap place to live, she offered the second apartment above the store. She didn't ask any questions, not even why I came to my first shift wearing the same clothes I had on when I interviewed, or why I had barely any clue how to use most muggle appliances. She saw a girl in need and gave me a house and a job, and for that I'm thankful.

I showered and changed quickly out of my jogging clothes and into something more suitable for my shift at the cafe, but also something that wouldn't make me swelter in the heat of the summer. Delilah smiled at me as I entered, offering me an apron to tie around my waist. The shop is slow today, a typical occurrence at midday on a Tuesday.

"How was your run?" She asked sweetly, just as she did every time she saw me running past before my shift. Delilah was in her late twenties and was a kind woman who was passionate about her business. The cafe was owned by her grandmother before she passed and then handed down to Delilah who dropped everything in her life and threw herself into making sure the coffeeshop was as successful as it had been in her grandmother's prime.

"Decent, I got a lot further than usual this time." I nod, and she nods her head in appreciation. She doesn't need to know that for half of my two-hour run, I'd actually been with Caelin. "Are you coming up after work tonight?" She eyes me hesitantly, sometimes I think she's figured out I'm not eighteen yet. If she has though, she hasn't done anything about it.

"Sure, you cooking for me again?" She bumps me with her hip, and I force a small laugh. "I'm gonna miss your cooking when you go back to school in the summer. You as well, but mostly your cooking." I send her a playful glare as she disappears into the back room. As I'm wiping down the counter, my eyes flick to the window of the shop as a tall boy with dark hair walks past. I curse myself for still seeing Cedric in every dark-haired boy that I see. With a defeated sigh, I lean back against the counter and close my eyes for a second.

"Are you alright dear?" Mrs. Doherty, a regular customer at the cafe, questions. The older lady having caught me by surprise smiles apologetically at me.

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