Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

Chapter 43

Chapter 43

Back to College.

Sylvia pushed open her dorm room door, finding it empty as usual. Her roommates said they were out for job interviews.

She opened her locker, her gaze lingering on its contents before squinting slightly. Just as she was about to grab something, a voice echoed behind her. "Sylvia."

Sylvia dropped her hand and turned around, only to have Freya rush up to her, slapping her own face repeatedly.

"Sylvia, I'm so sorry! It's all my fault. I was scared of being broke, and when Vincent said it was just using your account to post a few things, I believed him. You know how my mom always complains about college being a waste of money. That's why I fell for it. Please, have some pity."

Freya continued slapping herself while guilt-tripping Sylvia. Sylvia didn't respond, pretending to be stunned, watching as Freya slapped herself a few times. Fuming, Freya dared not stop; until her face turned red, Sylvia finally intervened.

"Stop it, it's too late for apologies now." Sylvia lowered her gaze to her injured hand.

Freya's eyes brightened, "Sylvia, what happened? Can't you compete because of your hand?"

Sylvia gave her a glance and sighed dramatically, "The doctor said my hand might never regain its full flexibility. Competing seems unlikely now."

Saying so, she let her hand fall weakly. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught Freya's hidden smirk.

The next second, Freya's expression shifted to concern, "Sylvia, don't overthink it."

"Okay." Sylvia forced a smile, and then said, "I'm a bit tired, going to rest now."

Freya nodded and left.

Watching her leave, Sylvia leaned back with a slight smile. Freya would surely spill the beans to Bridget. Just as Sylvia wanted.

any mistakes. A little misinformation could be

...

The Weekend.

to the Garcia

in, two figures descended from a car

Garcia and her son, Warren Garcia, the eldest grandson

Garcia, the eldest son of the Garcia family, never removed since its placement. A pity he was no

so formal, it'd feel

"It's necessary."

"Has your hand got

to see Warren's refined features, dressed impeccably in a light grey suit, a picture of correctitude. He was one of the few

her past life, Warren had once asked her gravely,

Sylvia only heard some dreadful rumors, losing all contact. Seeing his face again filled Sylvia with emotions, and in the end she let out an

"Warren, I'm alright."

the weight of her

"Glad

bit shy, lowering her gaze. However, the atmosphere turned stiff as Warren and Fiona's

Fiona nodded slightly, "Rupert."

Warren respectfully said, "Uncle."

gaze landed on her

but the person near him couldn't contain her excitement. She swept a smug glance at Sylvia's injured hand before greeting everyone with her hands clung to Rupert's

with polite nods, not keen on

hand, stepping aside,

glanced at their hands, his expression unreadable as

purposefully, "Sylvia and Warren seem quite

gaze

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