Half-Hearted: Mr. Sinclair, Stop the Act!-Chapter 195: Death of Destiny

What does this dream mean?

A prophetic dream?

Then what about those bizarre and terrifying dreams she had before?

Are they also prophetic dreams as Claire Grant mentioned?

Thinking about it, she simply propped herself up, moved her lips, and at that moment, her slightly uneasy heart pounded twice heavily.

An incredibly bold and outrageous guess suddenly arose in her mind.

Could it be...

That the events in the dream all happened in a past life?

And because she received the messages’ warnings and foresight, she took some correct measures in time, thus avoiding unnecessary harm and trouble from the dream.

Suddenly.

Her heart quivered violently.

Could it really be so?

Can people really sense events from a past life in dreams?

Or... did those events occur in a parallel world?

But what about these text messages?

How does the sender know so much and predict everything so accurately?

Especially those detailed matters, the sender always describes them word for word.

As if the sender had experienced it all firsthand.

How can that be?

How can something so eerie and unbelievable happen?

Suddenly, a flash of inspiration gave birth to an even more astonishing and thrilling idea.

The owner of this mysterious number, could it be...

Her future self?

Or her self from a parallel world?

This...

She gasped, seemingly frightened by the idea, her deep gray-black pupils quivering in the dark room, filled with surprise and fear.

Is it possible for such bizarre and weird things to happen in this world?

But if not, then this mysterious texting is completely inexplicable to her, and she can’t think of any other reasons.

She recalled during the New Year that the messages mentioned that the law of causality was disrupted.

Could it be because of the sender’s reminders, she was able to turn the tide and change the originally doomed ending?

So much has changed in the course of events?

Is that what it means?

Sienna Monroe felt cold sweat down her back, as unknown fear and unease slowly gnawed at her sanity.

The faint sense of incompleteness in her heart was now magnified indefinitely.

After a long while, she suppressed her chaotic thoughts and picked up her phone.

Steading her somewhat rapid and chaotic breathing, with trembling hands, she hesitantly edited the text again and sent it to that mysterious number.

[Who are you? Are you my future self?]

The next second, a glaring red exclamation mark appeared before her eyes, with a message: [The message you sent failed.]

Still unable to send it.

Indeed.

She couldn’t trace the contact, couldn’t get through on phone calls, couldn’t send messages, but could only receive messages.

Just that fact alone was already fantastical enough.

Sienna clutched the phone tightly, her somewhat colorless lips pursed into a straight line.

Her future self, her parallel world self...

This thought lingered in Sienna’s mind, unable to dissipate for a long time.

Until the dawn broke outside, a faint, sullen light seeped through the clouds, and her fickle thoughts could barely be drawn out of these two swamps.

The rain outside continued.

She rubbed her somewhat aching temples, discarding the chaotic thoughts in her mind one by one.

Lying back down, she slept for another three hours, then got up, grabbed a quick bite, and headed to the art gallery.

Around half-past nine in the morning, she received a call she had anticipated.

From Ethan Chapman, the director of Aura Art Gallery.

Earlier than she had expected.

As soon as the call was connected, Ethan’s slightly "kind" voice came through the receiver, "Director Monroe, this is Ethan Chapman. How have you been recently?"

Truly kind.

At least now, there wasn’t the slightest hint of the mockery and disdain from their last meeting at Capital University.

Sienna curled her lips, but her voice was slightly cold, "Yesterday, our museum and Teacher Audrey were subject to such denunciation; my mood, indeed, isn’t great.

And you, Director Chapman? Have you been well lately?"

Ethan recognized the underlying message in her words, recalling the legal letter and phone call from Sebastian Prescott, and couldn’t help but feel his scalp tingle.

He was actually surprised at how Sienna found out it was him.

Had she uncovered something?

But thinking again, it seemed quite incredible.

The report came out at three in the afternoon, and by nine at night, shortly after Audrey posted the clarification on Weibo, Sebastian had already sent a legal letter to him and the Aura Art Gallery as the legal advisor of Serena Art Museum.

Sebastian had even personally called him, giving him a "law lesson."

Since the other party had already figured it out and still held evidence.

Might as well cut to the chase.

To avoid Sienna losing patience and exposing the matter.

He took a deep breath and said, "I’m sorry, Director Monroe, regarding yesterday’s incident, it was my narrow-mindedness. I sincerely apologize for my reckless behavior."

Sienna lowered her gaze, recalling last night’s dream, and asked, "Why did you do it?" 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

She tried to catch a hint that might explain the events in the dream from Ethan’s words.

Or perhaps this incident wasn’t a coincidence but was deliberately designed by someone.

On the other end, Ethan indeed fell into a moment of silence.

After a while, he said, "Consider it as me being blinded by lard."

He couldn’t bring himself to voice out the envy he had, how Serena Art Museum was overshadowing Aura Art Gallery.

Especially since the other party was a young woman he had always looked down on, more than a decade younger than himself.

In fact, at the beginning of the year, when he learned about Caleb Sinclair’s affair, he had ridiculed Sienna behind her back for her incompetence.

Unable to keep a man, while her so-called best friend took advantage of the situation.

So useless.

How could someone like that lead the museum to surpass Aura Art Gallery?

He felt unwilling, and not at all resigned.

Sienna furrowed her brows, testing, "What do you mean? Did someone instruct you to do this?"

Clearly, Ethan didn’t want to dwell on this matter, "No. No one instructed me; it was me. In any case, I’m really sorry for any trouble I caused you and Audrey,

and I sincerely apologize, hoping Director Monroe won’t expose this matter."

No one deliberately instructed.

Then this plagiarism incident was an inevitable matter in the river of time.

Sienna pursed her lips, gathering her thoughts, and said indifferently, "Director Chapman, you might not know me well. I’m not exactly magnanimous or kind-hearted."

She couldn’t possibly let it go because of an irrelevant "I’m sorry," to forgive the damage he brought to Serena Art Museum’s reputation.

Ethan stiffened.

Indeed, he underestimated this young lady in her twenties.

"Verbal apologies may not express my sincerity; how about this, in Aura Art Gallery’s collection room, there’s a painting by your late mother, Leah Hughes."

Sienna was slightly taken aback; her mother, Leah Hughes, was also a renowned painter.

It wasn’t surprising for other art galleries or museums to collect her paintings.

Frowning, she asked, "What painting?"

Ethan said, "The piece is titled ’Death of Destiny,’ which our gallery has kept in the collection for nearly three years.

You should know that your mother’s artworks have appreciated in value since her passing.

I’ll give this painting to Serena Art Museum for free, as compensation from Aura Art Gallery."