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?"

Dr. Lennon," Sylvia

his hands, grinning a bit. "Funny,

her chin, the smile never

"My mom told me."

the foot of her bed, looking at her intently. "If that's the case, then hear me out for

"Sure."

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

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

"You

that night on purpose.

t about making cut

you in public.

use

car."

tanks, reinforced to be safer than any regular car. You

frosted glass with

have self-harm problem. You've seen therapists

to make it

when I asked about those scratches on

exactly

we meet, you act like you're hurting yourself. Just to get

your finger again—am I just your little lamb to

then burst out

a wild imagination.

expression suddenly serious. "Sylvia, this is

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