Dreadful entanglement. Ophelia pov

I was optimistic about that cake killing Lila. There were no two ways about it. Sooner or later, the news would break.

A slow death, painless at first. Perhaps she had already tasted it, let the sweetness dissolve on her tongue, completely unaware that it carried a sentence she couldn't escape. I pictured the allergy working its way through her bloodstream, silent and merciless. It wouldn't take long now.

I leaned back into the leather couch, the dim glow from the floor lamp casting elongated shadows across the living room. The air smelled of aged oak and expensive cologne, the scent lingering from the last time I had worn that navy suit—the one I reserved for high-stakes meetings.

I had stopped frequenting the bar and the restaurant where Aurora worked. By now, she would have pieced it together, connected the subtle shifts, the unspoken truths. She would know who I was. And I couldn't risk that.

There was too much at stake.