How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue
Chapter 13
Sylvie had just earned her drone license, and she piloted the thing with effortless skill.
Every swoop and loop she pulled from the sky brought another burst of applause.
Talented, poised, completely self-assured.
No wonder, really.
It was easy to see how Jarrod could fall for her at first sight.
A woman like Sylvie-she had everything it took to turn heads and draw men in.
Elodie had to admit, even from a neutral perspective, that Sylvie was magnetic. She was gentle, confident, and composed-raised with every advantage, smart and ambitious, and beautiful to boot.
Wherever she went, the spotlight followed.
But...
Everything Sylvie had was stolen.
Her mother and Elodie's mother had once been friends. Sylvie's mom had grown up with little, and Elodie's mother had stepped in-paying her college tuition, helping her get into grad school.
But in the end...
Sylvie's mother plagiarized Elodie's mother's work.
climbed the social ladder over Elodie's mother's broken back. After landing herself a wealthy husband abroad, she disappeared-pregnant, and with everything that
She didn't have to lift a finger, and everything she wanted just fell into
cold edge crept into Elodie's eyes. It
flawless, and as soon as she left the stage, a swarm of reporters surged forward, desperate for
crowd, jostled several times as the reporters barreled past without a second
chance to dodge. She stumbled, pain flaring in her ankle, but managed
reporter's question drifted over the noise: "There's a real spark between you two! Are
Elodie looked up.
into the crook of his arm, shielding her from the press. His expression was cold, his presence enough
reporters giggled
Are you two getting married? You're absolutely perfect
she caught Jarrod's gaze flicker her way for
What did that mean?
he warning her to stay out
radiated up from her ankle, spreading into her stomach. She bit down on her lip and tried to stand, needing to get out of
grabbed
are you doing? Listen, don't cause a scene. It's just an interview. Don't embarrass
at him,
out the
pale, then cold. She jerked her arm from Joseph's grip, her eyes so icy they could
bother replying-just turned on her heel
stared after her,
at his hand, still tingling from where she'd pulled away, her skin
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