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The Week Between

The week between Christmas and New Year’s always felt strange. Too quiet, like the city was holding its breath. Shea sat bundled in her coat at the little cafe near Union Square, watching slush slide down the curb while Tessa and Jackson argued about whether to see the movie everyone was talking about or stay in and order dumplings.

The cafe smelled like espresso and cinnamon, the kind of scent that could almost trick her into feeling warm. Tessa was talking fast, gesturing with her hands, and Jackson kept sketching her mid-sentence, smirking whenever she noticed. Shea loved them for it - for the noise, for the normalcy - but it didn’t quite reach the space inside her that still missed her dad.

It wasn’t the first holiday without him, but grief had a way of sneaking back when the decorations were still up and his favorite carols played in the background. She kept hearing his voice in her head. Maybe that was why her search history looked the way it did... flight prices, museum passes, weather in London.

“Hey,” Tessa said, breaking her thoughts. “You’ve been staring at the same spot for five minutes. You okay?”

Shea smiled faintly. “Just thinking about taking a trip. A little change of scenery.”

Jackson’s eyes lifted from his sketchbook. “You mean a change of company.”

Her cheeks warmed despite the cold draft from the door. “I mean... it wouldn't hurt to run into some familiar faces.”

Tessa grinned, nudging her boot under the table. “Then go. What’s stopping you?”

Shea looked out the window at the snow melting into thin gray puddles, the city lights reflecting off everything they touched. “Maybe nothing at all,” she said softly.

Outside, the street buzzed with the last week of the year, with people rushing home, taxis splashing through the wet. Somewhere across the ocean, London waited. And maybe, so did something else.