How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Elodie had just taken her seat at the dining table when she saw Jarrod's friend request pop up on her phone.

Emile was ladling soup into her bowl.

“It's seafood chowder tonight—extra oysters, just for you. You need to keep your strength up before the surgery. No matter how small the procedure, it'll take a toll on your body. Nutrition is important." Emile, who'd never married, had always treated Elodie like his own child.

Now that Elodie was facing cancer, he understood all too well what illness felt like. He'd been through it himself, and it hadn't been easy-let alone for someone as delicate as Elodie.

"Uncle, I can do it myself, really." Elodie tore her eyes from the phone and quickly reached for the bowl Emile was handing her.

"Mr. Silverstein messaged you?" Emile had noticed her checking her phone.

As for Jarrod, he couldn't say he disliked the man; in fact, he rather admired him.noveldrama

Setting emotions aside, Jarrod was, in his eyes, the standout among his generation. There was nothing to fault.

Elodie just smiled softly, not saying much.

Emile set aside another bowl for Rosemary, who hadn't returned from her walk yet, and said gently, "Actually, I couldn't sleep last night. I stepped out on the balcony for some air, and saw Mr. Silverstein's car parked down the street. He didn't leave not all night. When I got up early this morning, he was still there. Only left a little while ago."

What else could it be?

He kept vigil for her the whole night.

There was a quiet ache to it—not the kind that needed drama or tears.

Emile imagined Jarrod must be struggling with Elodie's illness, too.

Elodie, unaware of any of this, checked the time stamp on Jarrod's message.

Six thirty in the morning.

He hadn't said a word about being outside.

Emile glanced at Elodie, who was now lost in thought, eyes fixed on her phone. He decided not to interrupt her.

Elodie stared at the screen, pondering, when a news alert popped up at the top.

She meant to swipe it away, but accidentally tapped it instead.

The page opened and she found herself staring at a familiar scene.

There, in the photo, was the same scene they'd seen last night outside the bistro, Patricia and her friends being led away by the police. Their faces were blurred, but the headline was explosive, screaming "Illegal Gathering." The article was littered with hints: "famed prodigy artist," "heiress of a major corporation," "international art show in preparation." Anyone paying attention could easily piece together the real identities.

Patricia's name might as well have been flashing in neon lights.

Elodie frowned at the screen. She knew exactly what this meant.

With someone like Patricia, a scandal making it into the news was impossible.unless Jarrod had pulled some strings. In elite circles, real gossip about the upper crust rarely saw the light of day-most media wouldn't dare touch it. Online platforms steered clear as well.

But this time, the story involved illegal substances. The fallout wouldn't be small,

and the article was already trending. Jarrod had just fired the opening shot.

If Patricia's true connections were revealed, Eaton Aldridge himself would be dragged into the mess.

Already, Elodie noticed the online chatter shifting toward Eldrion Global.

Even if the accusations didn't stick, the company's stock would take a hit.

Jarrod had killed two birds with one stone: He'd targeted Patricia and wounded both Eldrion Global and the Watts family.

A corporation like Eldrion Global couldn't afford even a whiff of scandal involving illegal activities. The higher-ups wouldn't tolerate it.

Which meant-

Elodie's eyes suddenly sharpened with understanding.

Jarrod was using this as leverage, heading straight for the people who mattered most.

When Jarrod arrived at the Aldridge

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estate, he stepped out of the car, his suit jacket, and cast a cool penetrating gaze over the understated mansion before him.