So later that evening, Guru threw a party. It was more like a feast; his daughter was home after 7 months, and the whole pack seemed to have turned out for the occasion. Everyone gathered around the massive pits where meats were being roasted, the scent of charcoal and savory fat filling the night air. My friends kept filling me in with information, talking over each other to tell me what I had missed while I was away. I tried to listen, but my eyes kept drifting toward my girl. Princess was with Guru. Lately, I had been staring at them, wondering what they were discussing about in such low, serious tones. I tried using my hearing to focus on what they were talking about, but the music was thumping too loud, and the shouting and jubilation from the crowd were distracting. I couldn't focus on their voices.
