Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 41

When Sylvia woke up again, she found herself in a hospital bed, her eyes moving but her mind still foggy. She could hear a conversation happening right beside her.

"How is she doing?"

The voice was low and familiar, yet carried an undertone of danger.

"Mr. Garcia, she's going to be just fine, I stake my career on it. Her hand will heal as if nothing ever happened."

Hand?

That word jolted Sylvia into a more alert state, her half-closed eyes focusing on the name tag pinned on the white coat by her bedside. Chief of Neurology, Clive. So familiar the name, she remembered it.

In her past life, Bridget had cut her hand while cooking, and Rupert, worried sick, had the best neurologist in town, Dr. Clive, rushed over to take care of Bridget's wound.

That very day, Sylvia had gotten a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to redesign a set of vintage jewelry but ended up having her hand nerves severed by a mugger in a freak accident.

She begged the hospital for the best neurologist, only to find out he was with Rupert, attending to Bridget's minor cut.

She called Rupert, pleading for help, only to be dismissed with, "Sylvia, can you stop overreacting every time Bridget sneezes? Don't you get tired of this?"

And with that, Rupert hung up, and Sylvia lost all hope and opportunity.

Now, the face of the doctor before her merged with the memories from her past life. And standing by him was the very source of her agony.

"Ah!"

"Don't come any closer!"

"Stay away! Stay away!"

"My hand! My hand is gone!"

Sylvia's emotions collapsed in an instant; she couldn't differentiate between her past and present life.

On the other end, Orson spoke gravely, "The Zook family has posted a hefty bail for Julian and assembled a top-notch legal team for him. It's likely he'll only get probation."

Probation meant Julian would virtually escape jail time. He wouldn't face any real punishment.

Rupert quietly moved to the window, opened it; leaning against the window, he lit a cigarette, gazing at the woman on the bed as he exhaled a plume of smoke.

"Then let him be released, understood?"

With a flick of his cigarette, Rupert nonchalantly sealed Julian's fate.

Orson responded respectfully, "Understood."

After hanging up, Rupert extinguished his cigarette and returned to Sylvia's bedside.

Perhaps due to the sedative, Sylvia was sleeping peacefully, her delicate face half-buried in the pillow, looking exquisitely stunning.