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The coffee cup was inlaid with golden threads, exquisite in every way, as if it were an object used in a royal court. White smoke curled up from the coffee, carrying the faint aroma of coffee beans.
Without drinking it, Enna Clark knew this was a premium coffee.
But she didn't want to drink coffee now, nor could she. She pursed her lips, as if she wanted to say something but then hesitated.
Lyle Westbrook knew what she was about to say; how could he not? He took the coffee, elegantly sipped it, then set it down and volunteered, "Gigi was someone I found."