Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

The little girl looked a bit puzzled, but her mom gently pulled her over.

"Hey, don't go calling people old, honey."

"But Uncle Rupert isn't old! And his wife probably isn't old either," the girl replied innocently.

Sylvia's cheeks flushed. She quickly pulled her hand free from Rupert's and managed an awkward smile.

The girl's mom gave Sylvia a knowing look-she clearly understood, but didn't say a word. Instead, she chuckled. "My husband and I run a little diner over by the university. You should come by sometime if you're free."

"Thanks, I'd love to," Sylvia replied, feeling a warmth in her chest. She had been right about them—they really were easy to get along with.

As the family of three walked away, Sylvia pressed her lips together, feeling like something important had settled, but not completely. There were still so many questions from her past life—if so much had gone on behind her back, who was she really supposed to blame for what happened to Stella and herself?

She turned to Rupert. "Uncle Rupert, what about Bridget and Caleb?"

"They're at the hospital," Rupert said flatly. "Bridget's face was badly injured, and her leg's broken. Caleb's in a coma. He also got fired for forging signatures and overprescribing meds to patients' families."

Sylvia's eyes widened. "Forging? Did he ever forge your signature?"

Rupert's eyes narrowed, suspicious. "How'd you know that?"

her back. "Just a guess. He used to imitate Chris,

voice went cold. "Found two notebooks in his drawer full of my signature -looked like he was practicing. Never actually used them, though. Maybe he was planning something. He did say he wanted me to raise

was the one who signed off on those surgery and

if that was true, how did Stella end up

shadow fell over her. Dry autumn leaves rustled in the breeze, and before she could look up, she noticed Rupert's scarf-a familiar one, with

never worn that scarf again. Was he afraid it would remind her of painful

her hand reached out before she could stop herself. She poked

wrist. "What's that supposed to

Sylvia, startled, realized how

she blurted, "Uncle Rupert, your gearf's got a hole. I could knit

Rupert

looked down at her. "You know how to

"No."

ever knitted for

glared at him, but his gaze was sharp, as if

me once, didn't you?

looked away, feeling guilty. Sometimes, being around someone this sharp was

guessed it

scarves

her hand at it fumbling her way through a scarf she'd planned to give Rupert. But the day she was going to, Rupert announced