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As the sun rose over the city of Evermore, Krystal was wide awake watching the sunrise. She had already made her return to the living public, and in the process had met with an unfamiliar face and a potential new friend. However today was meant to be a more serious day. After her morning perimeter check, she was going to be heading to the cemetery to pay the proper respects to her parents. While she did dislike her mother for killing her father, Krystal didn’t hate her completely. Despite the bad things she had done, she was still her mother, and blood was blood, she couldn’t choose who her mother was. After the sun had rose, Krystal morphed into her Snow Tiger form and began sprinting through the woods, making sure the perimeter was clear of danger. Once she was satisfied with her check, she headed back to her house to begin getting ready for her visit to the cemetery.
After arriving back at her house, she shifted back to her human form and walked through her house completely exposed. It was a good thing she always took precautions when she went out in her snow tiger form. She closed all of the curtains covering the windows, and made sure to lock all the doors and windows to avoid any break ins. Walking into her bedroom, she pulled a navy dress out of her closet, along with a pair of navy heels to match. With her outfit chosen, she walked to the adjoining bathroom to shower before heading out. When her shower was complete, she dried her hair and straightened it with her straightener before smiling in the mirror. Her go to hairstyle was wearing it up in a bun, with her bangs hanging freely. It was a style that she had gotten into when training with her father all those years. Given today’s location, she figured that it’d be more respectable to her parents if she wore her hair down.
Getting dressed in the outfit she had chosen, Krystal gathered her handbag which held her belongings, and headed out of her house. Climbing into her Black Porsche 911 with red interior, she placed her handbag in the passenger seat, put her seat belt on, and turned the engine on. Before pulling out of the driveway, she put her mix CD on and began driving through the tranquil Therianthrope faction. It took about twenty minutes to reach the entrance to the cemetery, and when she finally arrived, she parked her car on the side of the road, and exited it to walk into the cemetery. She didn’t bother to bring a coat, while the wind held a slight chill in it, it didn’t really bother her as much given her Therian genetics, and the fact that she’s lived in Evermore pretty much her entire life, with the exception of a few trips here and there. With all of that thrown into the equation, she had grown tolerant of the cold, though she still required warmer clothes when winter hit.
Walking through the cemetery, Krystal held two small bouquets of flowers in her hands. The slightly larger one was for her father, while the smaller one was for her mother. She had a better relationship with her father, while her mother was rarely around growing up, not to mention that her mother had killed her father. After walking through the rather extensive cemetery for about five minutes, she finally found her parents’ headstones. Crouching down slightly, she placed the smaller bouquet of flowers on her mother’s grave, followed by placing the larger bouquet on her father’s grave. As her hand connected with the grave, her eyes filled with tears and she spoke in a saddened tone as the tears flowed more frequently “I’m so sorry papa”.
The door gave a slight creak as it opened inwards, a gust of wind rushing to meet the visitor as Cornelia stepped past the threshold, a musky scent sticking to her senses. She walked across the empty room to the slightly open window, leaving a trail of her footprints in the dust that had occupied the floor and almost every space in the house. The glass groaned under her touch as the detective slid it across to the latch, securing it.
It had been an entire year since she stepped foot into the male's household, an annual ritual that she didn't miss out on, ever since he passed away. Cornelia gazed at the singular table that stood at the center of the room, a layer of dust piled over it and one single vase that shone in the sun's strong rays. Picking out the royal red rose that peeked out of the vase, Cornelia replaced it with a fresh one, pouring just enough water that the treated flower would survive a year without additional care. Another routine she fell into every year she visited.
Joining her hands in front of her, Cornelia blew a breath, guilt ripping away at her insides like it did every time she was reminded of the fact that yet another life was taken because she made the mistake of caring. Today of all days, she had nowhere else to go. The police team knew of her ritual, and it was the Captain himself who suggested that she take a break for the weekend and focus on herself, after she unintentionally almost broke a criminal's hand while interrogating. Stubborn at first, the detective was one to follow orders, knowing that she was out of line, and would soon be out of her mind if she couldn't help it.
Locking the apartment door behind her, Cornelia stepped out of the unoccupied residence and back into the long empty hallway, heading for the elevators. Once out of the building, she climbed into black Chevy Camaro parked outside, putting the spare key that would have once been Leona's, in the glove compartment before driving to the next stop of her annual course.
The high cemetery gates loomed over her as she stepped out, moving past the iron railings, an arm wrapped around another bouquet of roses, paired with lillies. The path to the her destination was short, old dead leaves crunching under her feet as she walked up to the tombstone, a bitter-sweet smile turning up the corners of her lips as she approached it, the breeze playing with the ends of her black overcoat.
'Harrison Chadwick', the very name made her stiff, echoes of the fatal gunshot ringing in her mind as Cornelia sat on her knees in front of the grey tomb. Exhaling deeply, the female pursed her lips, placing the flowers in front of her. "You must be thinking how different things are from last year." She spoke, a faint whisper that faded into the chilly wind, "It still feels like yesterday." Continuing in the same soft tone, she added, "They say it gets easier with time, but I feel stuck. I don't think it'll get easier until I have brought him to justice. I just wish..." Out of the corner of her eyes, the brunette noticed another female appear in front of a grave. Pursing her lips slightly, she straightened up just enough out of habit, her guards forming back up, as a precautionary warning.