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A Job Well-Done

Larog's POV

“Susan?” I quipped, startled.

This was Gertrude through and through and she had that look in her eyes that told me she was aware; she was taunting me. Minerva was taunting me. Making me appear constantly stupid.

“What do you mean by Susan? Gertrude? Are you not Gertrude?” I asked, stupefied.

“Who is Gertrude? Susan? Have you been going around telling people your name is Gertrude? My daughter can be a bit mischievous that way,” Picasso chuckled.

“Your daughter? Like your biological daughter?” I looked wide-eyed at Picasso.

“Of course; she looks a lot like her mother but she does have my nose,” Picasso returned with a smile and when I did look from Gertrude's face to his I could see a tinge of resemblance.

“We have met, no?” I asked the girl.

“I do not know you, mister,” she replied but her eyes told me that she did remember me but she was going to pretend otherwise anyway.

“You should leave now. Susan, do see this man out,” said Picasso. Once we were outside Picass
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