**CHAPTER FORTY-SEVEN.**
After my last class ended for the day, I received a message from Yuri asking me to meet her and Tennessee at Honey Works Café. Almost at the same time, Draken texted, saying he wanted to see me later, but I knew where I needed to be first. I hadn’t seen Yuri or Tennessee since Karina passed. The thought of meeting them stirred emotions I had tried to keep buried, but I also knew it was time to face them.
Honey Works Café hadn’t changed. The door bells ringing rhythmically, and the nostalgic smell of freshly brewed coffee and warm pastries lingered in the air. Gentle hums of chattering filled the space. As I stepped inside, I spotted Yuri and Tennessee seated at their usual spot by the window. The way the sunlight streamed through the glass, casting shadows on their faces, gave them an ethereal, almost distant look. It reminded me of how everything felt different now, like the world had moved forward, but we were stuck in a moment of loss.
Yuri was the first to see me, her hand lifting in a soft wave. Her face broke into a small smile, though it didn’t reach her eyes. Tennessee glanced up and gave me a nod, a hint of warmth in her gaze, but like Yuri, she too seemed changed—worn down, like someone carrying an invisible weight. I quickly made my way over, offering quiet greetings as I slipped into the seat across from them, dropping my tote bag next to me. From my position, I had a clear view of the bustling streets of Brooklyn, but I couldn’t help the memories that flooded my mind as I glanced out.
The last time I was here…the last two times. One, it was with Karina, it was also the same day Raphael Huffman threatened to sleep with…rape me. And then, the second time was with Draken, during our frantic search for Karina. That day, we had hope—hope that we’d find her, that everything would be okay. But we were late.
“How have you been, Eline?” Yuri asked gently, breaking me from my thoughts.
I hesitated for a moment, my fingers tracing the rim of the salt shaker before I could answer. “Okay,” I finally said, though we both knew it was a lie. None of us were really okay, and the lingering grief in the air told me they felt it too. “I guess.”
As I looked at Yuri and Tennessee, it became more apparent how much they had changed in just a week. Tennessee looked thinner, almost fragile, like the weight of grief had physically taken a toll on her body. Yuri, on the other hand, had lost that spark of joy that used to light up her eyes. Karina’s death had hollowed her out in a way that words couldn’t quite describe.
A waiter approached to take our orders, and the conversation stalled again. I asked for my usual—a mocha latte—while Yuri quietly ordered a cappuccino. But when Tennessee spoke, it caught me off guard.
“I’ll have two hot chocolates. Pumpkin spice.”
Pumpkin spice. It was Karina’s favorite, the drink Tennessee used to mock her for, joking about how only weirdos liked that kind of stuff. But here she was, ordering it without hesitation. It wasn’t hard to tell that this was Tennessee’s way of paying tribute, a silent acknowledgment of what Karina had meant to her, to all of us.
The silence stretched as we waited for our drinks, the weight of unspoken grief settling between us. It felt like there was so much to say, but none of us knew where to start. What was there to say, anyway? That we missed her? Hell, Yuri and Tennessee didn't even know that Karina was killed. Karina's parents had only said their daughter died from a heart attack, a natural cause, one Yuri and Tennessee rolled with. They didn't even know Karina was a weredog, a shifter, one whose life had been unfairly taken.
When the waiter returned with our drinks, I wrapped my hands around the warm mug, taking a slow sip. The heat spread through my body, but it didn’t reach the space that had opened deep within me. Tennessee, too, slowly lifted her cup of hot chocolate, staring down at it for a long moment before taking a small sip. I could see the emotion behind her eyes, the way she fought to keep it together.
“This is terrible,” she said, but swallowed it anyway, and we all laughed.
“She's always had terrible taste, anyways,” Yuri said.
“Liking pink should be a first sign of a terrible taste,” Tennessee replied with a tiny smile as she drank from the drink again. I could see tears in her eyes. “but this drink might still be the best thing I've tasted.”
Silence fell upon us all again.
But Yuri broke it this time. “I still can't believe we would never see her again.”
It was a simple statement, but it carried so much weight. I nodded, unable to find the right words. “Yeah,” I whispered. “Feels surreal.”
“I keep expecting her to reply to my messages, you know? To tell me about her newest fuck or even about your relationship with Draken. I keep expecting her to pop up in school and announce that this is all some sick joke, and she was just being ridiculous.” Tennessee’s voice cracked, and she quickly cleared her throat, blinking away the tears that threatened to fall. She wasn't that much of a speaker, but I could hear the sincerity in her voice.
I swallowed the lump in my throat, my fingers gripping the mug tighter. “Yeah… I know what you mean.” My voice was barely above a whisper, lost in the quiet space between us. There were nights at the hostel when I woke up calling for Karina's name, hoping she would come out from the bathroom with her overly huge towel that made her look like a chihuahua…that she really was.
“Do you guys remember that time she tried to convince us all to dye our hair hot pink?” Yuri asked, a small, sad smile tugging at her lips.
I remembered. We all did. Who could forget the endless pestering?
Tennessee laughed softly, shaking her head. “God, yes. She wouldn't stop pestering us about it for weeks, even buying us the dye. That was during our first month at NYU.”
“I miss her,” Yuri looked up, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. “She wouldn’t want us to stay sulking. She’d probably tell us to stop moping and do something ridiculous in her honor.”
A small smile crept onto my face. “Yeah, she would. Something outrageous, like having a orgy or dyeing our hair pink.”
“Or ordering hot chocolate with pumpkin spice anytime we come here,” Yuri said, laughing through her tears.
I smiled and stared out the window, the noise of the café fading into the background as Yuri and Tennessee continued talking. The world outside moved on, oblivious to our grief. Cars rolled down the street, people bustled along the sidewalk, lost in their own lives, their own problems. I watched them pass by, feeling like my worries drown.
And then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a couple…no they weren't a couple.
I dropped my mug on the table with a bang as I sat upright to get a proper view of what I was seeing. And I saw it was a lady, laughing, as she spoke with a man. But it wasn't just any man.