Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert)

Chris rubbed his temples. Seriously, Orson and Rupert had been around each other way too long-saying even one extra word seemed physically painful for them.

He tried to explain, "He just wants you to do what makes you happy, Sylvia. It's not like he's trying to control you or anything."

Sylvia arched an eyebrow, a smile curling at the corner of her lips, half amused, half not. “Well, first off, tell him thanks. Second, maybe let him know I'd appreciate it if he stopped sending people to spy on me."

She hadn't told anyone about the training program, so if Rupert knew, it meant he had someone watching her. That much was obvious.

Chris started to blurt out, "But that's only because="

Orson reached out and stopped him, cutting him off. "Ms. Lloyd, I'll pass along the message. But I doubt that's the only reason you wanted to talk tonight, is it?"

Sylvia's throat felt tight. She took a sip of her coffee, stalling for a second.

"Orson, you know us better than anyone. You've watched this whole mess unfold from the start. You know how it ends, maybe better than we do."

"So whether you're his assistant or just his friend, please-talk some sense into him. Tell him to stop before he goes too far."

The table fell silent. The hum of the restaurant faded into the background.

Orson set down his mug, his expression serious. "Ms. Lloyd, I'm afraid I can't do that."

Sylvia stared, stunned. She couldn't understand this was the right thing for everyone, wasn't it? Why not just agree?

"Is this really a matter of right and wrong?" Orson asked quietly. "If it were that simple, don't you think he'd realize it? With the power he has, if he truly wanted to be free of you, don't you think he'd have done it already?"

like the world paused for a second, her mind

snapped his fingers twice. Two men, dressed like waiters, crossed the room

others

of the men glanced

Mr. Rupert myself,"

"Understood."

headed out, rounding up the rest of their crew and leaving

of them-she saw him jogging past her apartment every morning and

on the same route

the

to s

process it, Orson nodded toward

step outside for

frowned but grabbed her purse

it had when she'd arrived, except

in, and there

kids eating ice

before, but the sight of the busy street eased her nerves a

meaning to text Chris and Orson that she was heading

barely started typing when suddenly someone shoved

barreling down the road-didn't slow down, in fact, it sped