"ɪ ɢᴜᴇꜱꜱ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ꜱᴀʏ ɪ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴍʏ ꜰᴀᴍɪʟʏ'ꜱ ꜱᴀᴠɪɴɢ ɢʀᴀᴄᴇ."
~~~
Grace Mikaelson seems to think her days of helping her family are over, until a mysterious phone call from her uncle sends her entire world spiralling. Even when her family seems to be fal...
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chapter two - "the end of the affair"
...
Chicago, Illinois
Grace impatiently tapped her foot against the pavement as she checked the time on her phone. Her uncle gave her clear instructions to meet her at this particular bar at 12 o'clock, sharp. It was currently quarter past 12.
Huffing irritatedly, she turned around on her heels and opened the door with an ear-splitting creak. Without any hesitation, Grace stepped inside what seemed to be a dim, deserted bar.
"Hello?" she called into the painful silence, her voice echoing throughout the empty room.
"We're not open until three-" said a women, coming around the corner. She had pure white hair, cropped closely to her skull, intelligent, dark eyes and coffee brown skin, "Gracelyn," a smile crept onto her face.
"Gloria," breathed Grace, smiling herself as she walked towards to woman, "Oh god, I'm so glad it's you."
"Why, did you think a someone was going to jump out and rip your throat out?" Gloria asked, jokingly, placing a hand to her hip.
"It wouldn't be the first time," she muttered, "And please, call me Grace."
"Okay, Grace," Gloria said, raising her eyebrows, teasing the girl, "What are you up to these days? The last time I saw you, it was the 20s."
"I've been around, doing everything, avoiding my family," replied Grace sitting herself on the counter, "What about you? Last I heard, you were travelling with a coven in North Canada."
"Well, you eventually learn that some alliances don't always work out," she grumbled, shaking her head, "Now, I run this bar," she gestured around.
"All by your-" began Grace, before she was cut off by the sharp ringing of a phone in the next room.
"Sorry," apologised Gloria, cringing at the sudden noise, "You don't mind if I answer that, do you?"
"Not at all," said Grace, crossing her legs and looking around, as Gloria swiftly left the room.
The place looked very familiar, although couldn't quite place why, until it hit her. This was the bar where her, Rebekah and Klaus spent most nights, drinking and dancing. It was hardly recognisable now, without the band, flapper dresses and champagne.
"Looks familiar, doesn't it," said a new voice, as two pairs of heavy footsteps entered.
Grace's wandering gaze snapped up, as she met the sea green eyes of her uncle.
