Blair shivered and clenched the strap of her father's old leather satchel as a gust of autumn wind blew across the trees. The rattling of the leaves reminded her of the sound of an applause. The trees probably think we're crazy, she mused. And they probably were. After all, only a crazy person would think of running away in the middle of autumn without a proper coat at the very least.
 
"Ugh, it's so cold," Marion cried out. She was walking a little behind Blair, shivering just as much as she was. It was in the dead of night, and the identical cotton shirts and jeans they were wearing were not enough to keep the chill out.

The young witch went up to her friend, took her hands in hers and whispered a short incantation. As soon as she finished, a warm sensation crept up their palms and spread through their bodies. Soon, they both stopped shaking from the cold.

"I would say 'cool!', but the exact opposite just happened," chuckled Marion as she watched her palms regain their pinkish color. "But I reckon this wouldn't last until we get to that cabin you were talking about."

Blair nodded. "Only for a few hours. You know, you can still go back. We're not that far from the orphanage…"

"Sshhh… shhh.. shut it," said Marion, waving a hand as if she was swatting her words away. "I promised you 'always', remember?"

Those words warmed her so much more than the spell she just did. She gave the blonde a big hug, burying her face in her flaxen hair.

Marion hugged her bag and stroked her hair. "Aww, hey, don't tell me you're crying again?"

She shook her head. She was indeed fighting back her tears, but before they left the orphanage, she also promised 'no more tears' and she intended to hold true to that promise as well...

Just as she promised that she'd find them some clothes.

After walking for another hour or so, they reached their destination. The bright neon sign on the facade of the establishment stood out like a beacon in the darkness.

"The dry cleaner's," questioned Marion, an incredulous look painted on her face.

Blair nudged her friend teasingly. "Oh you of little faith! Leave it up to me."

Chimes rang as they entered the place. A portly middle-aged woman popped up from behind the counter and beamed, "Welcome to Blanca's Dry Cleaning, open twenty-four seve-- ooh goodness, Blair! What are you doing here so early in the morning? Is your mummy here?"

"No, Ms. Blanca. Just me and my friend," she said with a smile as she nodded in Marion's direction. "Do you have, um, new arrivals? I'm afraid we've outgrown some of our old autumn clothes."

Blanca gave them an appraising look through her spectacles and clucked her tongue. "Time sure does fly. It seemed like it was just yesterday when you and your mum first walked in here," she said as she motioned the two girls towards the back of the establishment. "You were a tiny thing, and now look at you! How old are you already, pet?"

"Thirteen, ma'am."

The room they went in smelled slightly less like detergent compared to the rest of the place. A wave of nostalgia hit Blair–this was the first time she was in here without her mother. A thin film of dust covered the room, but thankfully, the clothes were all wrapped in plastic.

"I do believe I have some things perfect for this weather, but I'm not sure they'd fit. Thirteen, such an awkward age for clothes," mused Blanca. The door chimes rang again, making the dry cleaning proprietress jump. "Ooh, another customer this early? Girls, knock yourselves out, okay? A tenner for everything you want. God knows I've had these things in storage ever. You'll be doing me a favor, really."

"Gosh, thank you, Ms. Blanca," exclaimed Blair. She gave Marion another teasing nudge as Blanca left the room. "See? Told you I could get us some clothes."

Marion held her hands up in the air in mock surrender. "I'm a believer. Wow, ten pounds for everything we want? Just… wow… How did you know about this place," asked the blonde girl as she sifted through the clothes on the racks.

Blair settled on a rack of coats. "Remember those clothes my mum used to buy and sell? We got some of those for cheap from here," she said as she inspected a camel-colored wool coat. "Lots of people forget about their laundry, so they end up here. Some of these have been around for years."

"What a bloody waste… Oh well, more for us then!"

It was almost daybreak when they finished going through all the garments. Blanca was right; there weren't a lot of things that fit them. The clothes that fit best were two sizes larger at the very least. Blair tried on an ensemble she selected: the camel wool coat she picked earlier, a loose gray and brown flannel dress shirt which she wore open over a cream floral dress, black tights and a pair of brown uggs.

Marion giggled. "You look like a hobo."

"Better a warm hobo than a cold hobo," she shot back.

"True," replied the blonde in amusement. "Hmm, you need a bit of color." She grabbed a red knit scarf from one of the sacks and wrapped it around Blair. "There! Now you don't look half bad."

They continued teasing and giggling at each other as they folded the clothes they were taking. Blair took ten pounds from her father's old leather satchel and gave it to Blanca at the front desk. Blanca clapped her hands, thanking them for ridding her of 'them bloody clothes' as she called them. The lady placed the clothes in some paper bags and handed them to the girls.

"Blair, that room misses you and your mum. Do come back again, pet?"

"We will, Ms. Blanca. Thank you again," said Blair as she waved goodbye at the portly lady.

As soon as they were out, Marion took Blair's hand. "Will we come back though?"

Blair clenched her friend's hand. "I don't know. We'll figure it out."