"You look so lost and pale today. Didn't you rest well last night?" Hazel asked, concern lacing her voice as she studied Dahlia's face.
Dahlia glanced at her friend and forced a faint, unconvincing smile. "Maybe it's just because I didn't wear makeup today," she replied, trying to brush off the question with a casual excuse.
Hazel frowned, unconvinced by that response. "You hardly wear makeup, Dahlia. What's really going on? Don't tell me you and Prince Sullivan had a fight," she teased, laughing lightly in an attempt to lift the mood.
But when Dahlia didn't respond—her eyes lowering to the floor instead—Hazel's laughter faded. Her expression grew serious as the realization dawned on her. "You did have a fight, didn't you?" she asked softly, her voice filled with quiet worry.
"It wasn't a fight exactly," Dahlia replied. "I'm just upset about something," she murmured.
"You can confide in me if you want," Hazel said, placing her hand over Dahlia's.