Lucky

The sunset painted the streets in shades of orange and purple. Lackey walked with her hands in her pockets, head down, until suddenly she froze. Her gaze fell on a familiar silhouette in the rays of the setting sun. She turned abruptly and strode toward you.

"Well, look who's here," her voice sounded cold and mocking. "And who do we have here?" Did she come of her own accord, or did the wind bring her? Did you think I wouldn't notice?"