Run
That Word had been haunting me all last year until I decided to actually follow it. My name is Cammie Morgan, the Chameleon. Being a pavement artist I have always been good at one thing: blending in. This was exactly what I was doing right now at the fair while I followed the man in the red shirt and cap through the thousands of other people attending, trying to have fun on their day off.
The slight limp in his left leg told me he had probably been hurt in a fight, a point which was supported by the scar on his arm which could have passed as a burn mark to anyone else but one I knew to have been caused by a knife, probably not bigger than 8 inches in lenght. Call me crazy but a Gallagher girl knows an enemy agent when she has one in front of her only apparently innocent face.
This man had changed his outfit trice already having arrived to the fair dressed in jeans and a t-shirt which then switched to a clown costume and finally this. I had carefully tracked him for the last hours, buying a cotton candy when I felt like it, stopping to play a game when it caught my eye, in other words, being invisible. The best way to hide is always in plain sight, were no one looks for you.
I had seen the symbol the man wore around his neck more than I would have liked to in the past months. It was displayed in the sword of Gilly, back at school, in the ring of the mother of a boy I missed terribly, and in my memory from a terrible day at Boston.
Unfortunately, knowing how to speak 14 different languages and at least 5 different ways to kill a man using basic items, some of which could be found in a kitchen cabinet (Trust me, it's not that hard), couldn't have prepared me for the hand that touched my shoulder at that moment, and the voice that came with it
"Hello Gallagher girl, you couldn't seriously think you'd get rid of me that easily, did you?"