Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 452

Ms. Ward thought Sylvia must have forgotten all about it, but she slipped into the kitchen, came back, and set it on the table in front of her.

It was a men’s watch—understated, but worth a fortune.

Sylvia recognized it instantly. It was Rupert’s.

She owned the exact same model, just the ladies’ version.

But she could’ve sworn she didn’t see this watch last night when she was cleaning up after dinner.

Unless… the person who stayed with her while she was sick was Rupert.

Lester never said he’d made the chicken soup. Sylvia had just assumed.

Thinking back on the hazy, dreamlike night, Sylvia’s hand shook, and she spilled her ginger tea.

Ms. Ward hurried over with napkins. “Honey, what’s wrong?”

Sylvia turned to the window, then, almost on impulse, snatched up the watch and rushed out.

Standing in the elevator, she watched the numbers tick down, counting in her head.

She leaned against the wall, her heart a mess of hope and dread. She’d told herself again and again not to go down this road, but she needed to know the truth.

She’d already died once—a painful, grueling death. She’d survived that. She couldn’t just let her past life end in a blur, questions unanswered.

Bursting out of the building, she ran to a patch of clear ground, where the snow hadn’t settled.

She looked everywhere, but whoever had been watching—he was gone.

She clutched the watch tightly, fumbling for her phone, but before she could make a call, Naomi’s name flashed on the screen.

“Mom?”

“Sylvia, Rupert’s getting engaged to Ms. Sanford. The engagement’s before New Year’s, the wedding right after. It was Rupert’s idea.”

Sylvia froze.

Naomi’s voice faded into static. All she heard was the crack of a branch above, then a heavy pile of snow crashed down toward her. She couldn’t even react.

Suddenly, someone darted forward, yanked her out of the way, and the snow and brittle branches crashed behind them.

Rupert.

It was really him.

Something squeezed tight in Sylvia’s chest—anger, hurt, she wasn’t sure.

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