Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

When Sylvia came to, she was already wearing a fresh set of clothes, thanks to Naomi and a nurse. Even the blood in her hair had been carefully washed away. Damp strands clung to her cheeks, giving her a fragile, haunting beauty-but her eyes were empty, vacant, like a marionette with its strings cut.

Chris sat next to her, his head bowed as he gently clipped away the curled dead skin around her fingers. The moment she twitched, he looked up, voice soft and reassuring. "Almost done, promise. Just hang in there, okay?"

Sylvia nodded numbly, then asked in a hollow voice, "How's Bridget?"

Chris hesitated before answering, "She... lost the baby. Had a lot of bleeding, but she's stable now." He sounded strained, as if the words hurt.

Sylvia clenched her jaw so hard it looked painful, her fingers digging into the edge of the hospital bed. She nodded, then shook her head, as if trying to sort through her thoughts.

"I didn't push her," she said quietly.

Chris glanced up, surprise flickering in his eyes at her deadened tone. He hesitated, wanting to say something more, but just then, the door swung open.

Bridget entered, wheeled in by Miriam. She looked pale and exhausted, wrapped in a fleece blanket. But when her eyes met Sylvia's, there was a strange softness -almost forgiveness.

"Sylvia, are you alright?" Bridget said, her voice gentle. "I heard what happened outside the OR. I know it wasn't your fault. I don't blame you."

was almost laughable this time. She let

know as well as I do

dull, now flashed with icy anger. The bitter smile on her lips made her

Ignoring Sylvia's resistance, she suddenly grabbed Sylvia's

winced, unable

married. You have to let this go! I'm not even blaming you for what happened to my baby. What else do

down harder on Sylvia's injury as she tried

in pain, yanking

end of the bed and

a

will walk down the aisle in what's being

realization

little smile- only to quickly swap it for a shimmering, tearful gaze when others looked over. "Sylvia, I'm begging you,"

gathered at the door. Helena stood at the front, her eyes full of

in time. This was just like before: Bridget's masterful performance, and Sylvia the villain in

every direction. Her chest tightened, the metallic taste of