Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 428

When Chris saw Sylvia, he looked a little guilty. He opened his mouth, but couldn’t quite find the words.

Trying to break the tension, Sylvia jumped in first. “Dr. Chris, I twisted my ankle. Could you take a look and see if there’s any way to get the swelling down fast? I have a really important press conference tomorrow.”

Chris’s eyes lit up when he realized she still trusted him. He nodded with a determined grin. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you covered.”

As he examined her ankle, Chris started rambling off a bunch of advice, practically lecturing her.

Finally, he looked at Sylvia with an awkward expression. “Sylvia, I’m really sorry.”

Sylvia gave him a reassuring smile. “It’s not your fault, so stop beating yourself up about it.”

Relieved by her answer, Chris got back to work, packing her ankle with an ice pack and then carefully applying some pain relief cream.

While Orson went to fetch the prescription, Chris made tea for Rupert and Sylvia—proper English breakfast tea this time.

Chris seemed back to his usual self, pouring tea and glancing at Rupert. “So, Rupert, how’s your sleep these days? Still dreaming about that little girl?”

Sylvia’s hand froze halfway to her lips. “What little girl?”

Chris realized too late that Rupert hadn’t told Sylvia about the dreams. He shot Rupert a worried look.

Rupert just sipped his tea calmly, not objecting, so Chris figured it was fine to go on.

He chuckled lightly. “You’ve been in so many accidents lately, Rupert keeps dreaming about a little girl—says he has to save you, and she gives him all these clues. The weirdest part? The kid looks just like a mix of you two.”

There was a sharp clatter as Sylvia’s teacup tipped over, spilling tea everywhere.

Stella! The thought of her daughter made her chest ache.

Noticing the curious gazes on her, she hurried to mop up the mess. “Sorry, just slipped.”

“Aren’t you the least bit weirded out?” Rupert asked, sounding casual but cutting straight to the point.

Sylvia kept her head down as she wiped the table, mind racing.

“I get it!” she said suddenly, looking up. “My grandma used to say those are just prophetic dreams. It’s just your mind piecing together stuff you already know but didn’t notice. Happens when you overthink things.”

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