On the other side of the hall-


    Eloise stood at the front entrance with Mr. Lennon, waiting for the VIP guests to


    arrive. She checked her phone three times but still hadn''t managed to get ahold of Sylvia.


    Mr. Lennon nced at her. "Ms. Eloise, where''s Sylvia? Weren''t you two supposed toe together?"


    Eloise offered an awkward smile. "She..."


    Just then, Bridget strode over and confidently took her ce at Mr. Lennon''s side.


    "Sylvia''s not feeling great," she announced. "She said she might not make it."


    Mr. Lennon frowned but didn''tment. He seemed to ept Bridget''s presence, but being stood up by a neer clearly didn''t sit right with him. Bridget couldn''t hide a little smirk.


    But before she could savor her triumph, a familiar voice rang out behind her. "Who said I wasn''ting?"


    Everyone turned. Sylvia swept in, dressed in a fiery red, high-slit evening gown that seemed to light up the room. The shimmering fabric made her skin look almost luminous, and the unique mesh ovey-dotted with a few sparkling crystals-gave her an air of mystery.


    Even Bridget''s confident smile twitched.


    Sylvia shed her a cool grin. “Ms. Simpson, you must''ve misheard me. I said I''d be here in a second."


    She squeezed past Bridget and turned to Mr. Lennon. "I heard you''re a local, Mr. Lennon, so I had this dress custom-made with that special tartan from this region. Thought it''d be a nice touch."


    Mr. Lennon looked delighted. "Ms. Lloyd, that''s very thoughtful of you."


    "Just doing my part," Sylvia replied.


    Just then, a sleek ck Mercedes pulled up outside. Sylvia''s stomach twisted with unease as she recognized the driver. Sure enough, as the car door opened, Rupert stepped out.


    He looked effortlessly handsome, the kind of guy who couldmand a room without saying a word. As he walked in, the sunlight caught


    sharp features, and his line


    unreadable-seemed to take in everything, yet kept everyone at arm''s length.


    "Mr. Rupert, you made it!" Bridget hurried forward, looping her arm through his with the air of someone


    staking a im. Her sugary smilene


    made it obvious to everyone that she wanted people to know Rupert was there for her.


    Rupert nodded and exchanged a few pleasantries with Mr. Lennon.


    "Let me introduce Ms. Lloyd," Mr. Lennon said, gesturing to Sylvia. "She''s bright, ambitious, and even made the effort to wear our famous regional tartan to greet you."


    He didn''t know about Sylvia and Rupert''s history-he just thought he was introducing a promising neer.


    Rupert''s gaze flickered over Sylvia. "Special effort, huh?" His voice was low, unreadable.


    Sylvia clenched her fists at her sides. If she''d known Rupert would be here, she would''ve skipped the whole show and left him to Bridget.


    Mr. Lennon waved everyone inside. Eloise leaned in, barely able to hide her grin.


    "What''s so funny, Ms. Eloise?" Sylvia whispered.


    "Oh, nothing. Just... this is getting interesting. Come on, you''ve got this," Eloise nudged her.


    Sylvia gritted her teeth and followed Mr. Lennon and Rupert in. Bridget, predictably, clung to Rupert like a barnacle, shooting Sylvia the asional triumphant look.


    Fortunately, Sylvia''s professionalism kicked in. She''d done her homework, so she could talk knowledgeably about all the exhibits and offer her own insights.


    Mr. Lennon nodded along, clearly impressed.


    Bridget tried to join the conversation, but after bungling the names of two designers, Mr. Lennon simply ignored her, leaving her to cling even harder to Rupert for validation.


    As the tour wound down, a chilly breeze swept in through an utched window. Sylvia shivered, then coughed twice.


    She used to be tougher than this, but


    ever since her "second chance" at life, she''d been catching every bug going around. Her medicine cab at home was practically overflowing.