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JC was strolling along the busy street, keeping his head low. He loved to walk through the city with no particular destination. It gave him a chance to feel like a normal person.
As he passed by a caf� JC noticed a forlorn figure sitting at an outside table. It was the familiar red hair that caught his attention.
�Chloe?� he ventured.
She looked up. Her green eyes were red rimmed from crying. �Oh, hey JC.�
�What�s wrong?� he dared to ask.
�Everything,� Chloe answered. �Did you want to join me?�
�You want to talk about it?� JC took the seat across from her.
�Depends, do you have an hour?� Chloe asked.
�As a matter of fact I do,� JC replied.
�You�re not going to be happy,� Chloe predicted.
�Just tell me,� JC coaxed.
�Well, my name isn�t really Chloe Dorret,� she began, �it�s Chloe Byrne. I�m not twenty-two, I�m an eighteen year old runaway.�
�What?� JC roared in stupefaction.
A few people looked their direction and JC lowered his voice. �OK, tell me the whole story.�
�I ran away from home just after last Christmas,� Chloe began. �My father had been beating me for the last three years and I one night I had had enough.
�I couldn�t go to the police,� Chloe continued. �I tried it once and somehow my father fooled them into thinking I was just a spoiled rich girl having a tantrum. So, I drained my bank account and moved away.�
�Does Chris know?� JC managed to ask.
�No, I keep trying to tell him,� Chloe replied, �but you�re so busy, he never has time to listen.�
�You have to tell him,� JC told her.
�I know,� Chloe said, then asked cautiously, �Do you hate me?�
JC paused for a moment. He understood, sort of. He couldn�t say that he blamed her for running. In fact, he had to admit that he would have done the same in her place.
�No, I can�t say that I�m thrilled about this,� JC said, �but I don�t hate you.�
�I just hope Chris will understand,� Chloe said.
JC studied the hopeful woman in front of him.
I hope so too, he thought, for all our sakes.
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