Encore of the Avenging Muse (Sylvia and Rupert) novel Chapter 555

She stood frozen for a few seconds before steadying herself on the lamp and inching closer to the photo wall.

It was filled with pictures—shots of women's legs, all different. At first, they looked like candid snaps, but then came the ones of severed limbs. Eventually, there were photos showing Yves himself cutting off women’s legs. Sylvia had braced herself for something bad, but the shock still sent a cold sweat coursing down her spine.

Her hands trembled so much the lamp’s beam shook, casting creepy, flickering shadows over the grisly images.

But she couldn’t back down now. Everything she’d done so far would be for nothing.

Swallowing hard, Sylvia leaned in, searching the photos for any useful clue.

As she moved the lamp, the light slipped to another wall. This time, the photos all featured the same person.

Reese.

From Yves and Reese’s very first meeting, right up to now, Yves had documented every moment of Reese’s life. Every photo was dated and labeled.

Even though Sylvia had never followed Reese’s treatment abroad, she could see from these pictures how Reese had climbed out of her own darkness, step by step. You could almost feel the pain and determination in every candid smile or weary frown.

Yves, she had to admit, was obsessed with Reese. He’d arranged these photos like an art gallery, like some twisted love letter.

Sylvia stared, then suddenly paused, swinging the lamp back to Reese’s photos.

In several shots, Reese wasn’t wearing her prosthetic. The scar where her leg ended was clear as day.

Her wounds had healed, but the pattern of scars on her leg—Sylvia realized, with a jolt, she’d seen them before.

Frowning, she turned to the other photos of women’s legs.

After Yves met Reese, the scars on the other women’s legs looked almost identical to Reese’s. The difference was, Reese’s injury was an accident. The others—Yves had done it himself.

Lining up two photos side by side, Sylvia’s mind flashed back to a memory.

“Ms. Lloyd, your mother’s leg… the wound is too jagged to stitch up. We’ll have to use something else to secure it.”

“…Okay.”

That explained Yves’s deference whenever Kay’s name came up.

Piecing it all together, the truth about what had really happened back then wasn’t hard to guess.

But Sylvia could hardly process it.

So Rupert had always known how Naomi really died.

All the while, he kept his partnership with Kay—and kept Reese safe.

If Sylvia hadn’t recognized Yves the very first time she saw him, she might have ended up just another photo on his wall.