Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 296

Sylvia had no idea how long she'd been standing there until her phone buzzed with an incoming call from Naomi.

"Mom."

"Sylvia, why on earth did Tristan say I should take you to the hospital? What's happening?" Naomi's voice was laced with worry.

Staring up at the stark white ceiling, Sylvia understood exactly what Tristan was up to.

With a hint of exhaustion, she replied, "Mom, it's nothing. Just wait for me at the hospital."

"Alright."

After hanging up, Sylvia saw Eloise approaching from the other end of the hallway.

"What’s everyone standing around for? Get to the meeting already!"

Not wanting to stir up trouble, everyone quickly shuffled into the conference room.

Sylvia approached Eloise with an apologetic expression. "I'm sorry, Ms. Eloise. I need to take the day off."

"Go on, handle what you need to." Eloise didn’t reprimand her. Instead, she glanced at Sylvia's neck and offered her a scarf. "Cover it up."

Sylvia looked down and realized that Bridget had pulled her scarf loose, revealing the fading marks of a passionate night. No wonder her colleagues had been giving her those odd looks.

But was it really her fault?

She touched her neck, then the scarf, feeling a mix of frustration and defiance.

Finally, she yanked the scarf off, tying her hair up in a high ponytail, exposing the marks completely.

"Ms. Eloise, it's fine. We're all adults here. No need for melodrama."

Eloise paused, a glimmer of respect in her eyes, but she didn’t take back the scarf. Instead, she tied it around Sylvia's ponytail.

"It looks good like that."

"Thanks. I’ll be off then."

With that, Sylvia turned and left.

She strode over to Naomi, her voice icy. "Tristan, even in court both sides get to speak. When did one-sided stories become the whole truth?"

"You..." Tristan was taken aback by Sylvia's public defiance.

Sylvia lifted her chin, making sure the marks on her neck were visible. With a smirk, she said, "Ms. Simpson seems very interested in the marks on my neck. Well, here’s your fill. Since when did minding your own business become so noble?"

Bridget was momentarily speechless, her anger rendering her mute.

Finally, she resorted to tears once more. "I’m sorry, Sylvia. I shouldn’t have cared so much about you."

Feigning distress, Bridget clutched her head, "accidentally" pulling her bandage loose, revealing a slightly bleeding wound.

Tristan, seeing this, slammed his hand on the table, his sharp eyes boring into Sylvia.

"Is that how you talk to your elders?"

The weight of his words was unmistakable. It was as good as confirming that Bridget was about to join the family.

Bridget's embarrassed expression quickly turned to one of delight as she gently advised, "Tristan, it's nothing. We’re all family here. No need to get so upset. Take care of yourself."