Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

Chapter 454

When Rupert heard the word "fire," he froze again.

He couldn't help but remember the little girl in his dreams, her clear dislike for him.

Every night, his dreams ended the same way: the little girl running into the flames, holding the hand of a woman whose face he could never quite see. They would share a look, a gentle smile, and then vanish from his dream, leaving him with nothing but the echo of their absence.

While Rupert stood lost in thought, Sylvia managed to slip from his grasp and put a few steps between them.

There was anger in her voice, but a touch of pleading too. "Uncle Rupert, I know I can't win against you. But I'm still a person. Haven't you and your son humiliated me enough? Do you really need the whole world to point at me and call me trash before you're satisfied?"

She didn't wait for him to respond. Turning on her heel, she walked away.

Rupert reached out, but only caught the coat draped over her shoulders. Sylvia didn't even slow down-she shrugged off the coat and disappeared into the snowy night without a backward glance.

Snow gathered on Rupert's shoulders as Orson hurried over, holding an umbrella above him.

"Mr. Rupert, if you keep Ms. Lloyd hidden here, and Tristan finds out... I'm afraid

"Tristan always keeps a card up his sleeve," Rupert muttered, lighting a cigarette. The swirling smoke masked the storm in his eyes.

"A card?" Orson asked, confused.

at the root," Rupert replied,

the line Sylvia had pointed to earlier, and a vivid image played out in his

back. For a moment, he almost saw two of the most important

his voice low and distant.

the obsession in Rupert's eyes and, for a moment, didn't know

***

stumbled home, numb and exhausted. She was startled when the door swung open as soon as she touched the

recovering, your face is as white as a sheet. I made some chili stew; come eat while it's

to be alone tonight.

Ward handed her a steaming mug as soon as she

drink?" Ms. Ward asked, already

little surprised at her neighbor's readiness. "You were

a little wine-by tomorrow, nothing will

just poured the wine, tossed some ribeye slices into the bubbling stew, and even mixed up a dipping sauce for

made her way home, fell into bed,

morning, she was back at work, busy enough that there was no time for

day before the winter holidays, she finally

the big office clean-up, they ordered afternoon tea and relaxed,

tempted to join in. In her last life, she'd married right after college had a