After a long, much-needed shower and a little time to cool off—not just physically, but emotionally—I finally felt like I could face the day again. I slipped into a fresh set of fine clothes, something presentable but comfortable, and stepped outside.
Taking the elevator I looked for her in the reception hall and then outside.
There she was.
She leaned casually against the stone wall outside, arms folded across her chest, her eyes tracking people passing by without really seeing them. That old tattered outfit of hers was still visible beneath the cloak draped over her shoulders, torn in places and weathered by time. She looked like she had walked through a battlefield and hadn't bothered to change since.
I frowned slightly at the sight.
"Let's get you some clothes first," I said, approaching her. "You're drawing more attention than you probably want like that."
