English spy from England OTL

Beep. Beep. Beep.
Amelia rolled over and hit her alarm clock. The beeping abruptly stopped, and Amelia wished that just this once, she didn't have to get up at four.
As she stood up to retrieve her shoes, she happened to glance at the dilapidated calendar on the wall. April 13.
Oh, yeah, Amelia thought. I'm sixteen today.
That meant it was sixteen years since the day she was born, four years since her parents had been murdered outside a movie theater, and three years since she'd been forced into that awful run-down orphanage.
Pondering this, Amelia slid on her shoes, trying not to wake her 6-year-old roommate Ellie. She snuck down eight flights of stairs to get the newspaper. Getting the newspaper was considered community service at the orphanage. Every kid, whether or not they were actually literate, was dying to get his or her hands on the London Tribune to see if there was even a sentence about their parents, or their parents' murderer. Amelia, the oldest of the orphans, was expected to take on this service of retrieving the paper, and maybe even coffee for some of the older children. Amelia ran outside and, once her foot hit the cold cement, pulled her jacket tighter around her. The England air was eerily chilly for April.
She walked half a block to the nearest convenience store, where she purchased three coffees and a city newspaper from the kindly old man behind the counter. "Happy birthday, Amelia," he said. He had known Amelia for two years.
"Thanks, Kevin," she said with a grin. She tossed some change on the counter, gave the man a small smile, and left the store.
What she didn't see was a man in a trenchcoat watching her, hand curling around the gun in his pocket.