Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

Chapter 502

By now, the house was nothing but a hollowed-out skeleton, charred and broken.

After the firefighters finished, the garden was a muddy swamp, waterlogged and ruined.

Sooty puddles oozed across the scorched earth-everything, in that instant, was lost.

Orson spoke carefully: "Ms. Lloyd set up a candle timer in the kitchen. By the time anyone noticed, it was already too late."

Rupert stood stone-faced in front of what was left of the house, letting the bitter wind tangle his hair and sting his eyes.

Through the thick haze of smoke, he could almost make out two shadows under the blackened beams, one tall, one small.

He reached out, desperate to grab them, but Sylvia's voice echoed in his mind.

"Rupert, I hate you."

"The day I moved in, I set this place to burn."

And Sylvia had done it.

She burned away every last thing in that house.

Even those fleeting days of happiness.

Suddenly, Rupert thought of something. Without a second's hesitation, he turned and dashed through the mud-churned garden, heading for the veggie patch.

The soil, pounded by fire hoses, had been stripped bare, exposing the seeds they'd planted just days before.

Rupert crouched down, scooping up a handful of earth, searching for any sign of life.

He crushed a seed between his fingers-it was rotten through.

he clenched his fists. "All

Spring would never come.

even leave him

hate him, enough to destroy

now she'd forgotten

went ghostly pale, a bright line of blood blooming at his lips

through his bandages, staining his shirt with a fresh

"Mr. Rupert!"

...

up the night sky, painting

and silent. The only light came from the window, illuminating the

stood bare-chested, a bandage wrapped tight around

in the gloom, smoke curling around his pale face. His eyes

to the filter, crushed it into an ashtray already

notice, just reached

that moment, the

coughed, waving away the thick cloud of smoke. He marched over and snatched the cigarette from Rupert's

You're still smoking? Do you even care

cigarette. He didn't light it—just rolled

knocked and

the specialists from Boston are ready. First

"Okay."

in

in a sharp breath and smacked the lighter

fingers, replied coldly,

around the medical file, his jaw

herself? Are you really that

you seen how she's