Chapter 23. World of the Rich

DYLAN

I had been looking at her the whole night. I was aware of how difficult this was for her. Standing in a room full of people, mourning the death of her mother.

I knew that she somehow blamed herself for not coming home earlier. I could see the guilt in her eyes when she talked to me a while ago. Perhaps she was still overthinking it all, just hesitant to tell me.

I couldn’t blame her, though. Both of us had been preoccupied with things since we came here. Unlike when we were back in the country, we had lots of spare time on our hands. Here, it was like every second was a race. As if to stop and rest would amount to a certain loss. Here, to stop would be a crime.

So, when the florist came and did the job entrusted to her, I waited in my seat. I didn’t know any of the few people who gradually filled up the place, so I stayed there, enjoying my cup of coffee with no cream or sugar. I stayed observant.

The Ridleys were talking about the newly-appointed