Éponine went to the café where Musichetta was working.
"How are you feeling?" Musichetta asked her.
"Okay, how about you?" Éponine asked.
"Fine. Working helps take my mind off of them," Musichetta sighed, "everything I see reminds me of them, you know what I mean?"
Éponine nodded.
"Like that man there just ordered Grantaire's favorite drink," Musichetta said sadly, nodding over to a table where a man was sitting.
Éponine looked back and frowned at the figure hunched over at a table. Grantaire's favorite drink was a mixture of the strongest stuff, topped with a rum biscuit. It was weird for two men to order the same exact thing.
Grantaire knew it was risky going to a café that Musichetta worked at, but so far he was fine. He had a cap on that his black curls. He was wearing an oversized jacket, which helped disguise him. He finished his drink, and breathed out loudly.
Grantaire stood up to leave. He dropped some coins on the table and headed for the door. He reached out to open it, when someone grabbed his wrist.
He turned to face the person, and was surprised to see Éponine. Their eyes locked, and both of them froze, Grantaire in fear, and Éponine in shock.
"You're not supposed to be alive," Éponine said, faintly.