Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

Chapter 504

The rain in Rupert's dream came down in torrents.

In reality, Rupert was drenched in sweat, tossing and turning until he finally shot upright in bed.

His heart thudded painfully, a burning ache that seemed to crawl through every vein, crushing his bones and leaving him gasping for air. Every cell in his body screamed in agony.

He squeezed his eyes shut, fists clenched so tight his knuckles turned white, fighting to keep himself under control.

When he opened his eyes again, thick snow was falling outside the window, blanketing the world in white.

Rupert got up, grabbed a pack of cigarettes from the windowsill, and lit one. He watched the snow swirl through the glass, smoke curling from his lips.

He'd barely taken two drags when Orson burst in, clearly having heard him moving.

"Mr. Rupert, you're awake! Are you feeling alright?"

Rupert exhaled a cloud of smoke, his voice cool and distant. "How is she?"

Orson knew exactly who he meant. "Other than a few scrapes, she's fine. She's been moved out of the ICU."

"That's good." Rupert stared at the floor, his voice raw and gravelly as he added, "Orson, tell the doctor not to come."

Orson blinked, surprised, but nodded. "Of course."

In another room, Sylvia sat by the window, chin propped on her hand, watching the snowflakes drift down.

Chris knocked and stepped inside.

"Feeling any better?"

alright, Dr. Lennon," Sylvia replied

hands, grinning a bit. "Funny, I

fingers curled slightly under her chin,

"My mom told me."

moved to the foot of her bed, looking at her intently.

"Sure."

back to the window, apparently uninterested in whatever Chris had to

collected himself before speaking, "You didn't lose your

"You

that night on

t about making cut

with you in public.

to use the

car."

tanks, reinforced to be safer than any regular car.

the frosted glass with her finger,

problem. You've seen therapists

to

asked about those scratches on your arm, I

knew exactly what

like you're hurting yourself. Just to get me to feel sorry

your finger again—am I just

then burst

sure have a wild imagination.

lips together, expression suddenly serious. "Sylvia, this