Dahlia's POV
After we finished breakfast, Taryn took my mother to the grocery store downstairs to pick up some fresh ingredients.
I remained seated at the dining table, slowly picking at the remaining muffin on my plate.
My phone buzzed against the wooden surface. Seeing Lorena's name flash across the screen made my fingers freeze mid-bite.
One of Cobb's friends is dead. Did you hear about it? I caught some footage in one of the chat groups from what went down last night.
Lorena belonged to countless WhatsApp groups. Most were filled with wealthy heirs and heiresses. These circles operated in layers, each tier defined by family fortune and social standing.
My pulse quickened at her mention of footage from last night.
The muffin lodged in my throat. I started coughing violently, my face burning red from lack of air.
Diane noticed my distress immediately. She rushed to the refrigerator, grabbed a water bottle, twisted off the cap, and pressed it into my hands.
