Chapter One-Hundred & Fourteen

Rose Westwood sat on the plush carpet of her bedroom, back against her bed frame, knees drawn to her chest. Her phone was blowing up—texts, voicemails, mentions, likes, shares. She stared blankly at it as the screen lit up again:

**@GossipGirlNYC: "WILD. Did August Westwood just EXPOSE Jonathan for...