How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

"No need. I'm leaving," Elodie said, her patience worn thin. She had no interest in sticking around and being a third wheel.

But as she turned to go, a warm hand closed firmly around her wrist. Jarrod's gaze was cool, almost indifferent. "You stay. I'll switch rooms."

Elodie frowned, about to wrench free, but Jarrod released her first, deliberately widening the distance between them. "If you leave now, it'll be hard to explain things to my grandmother."

So that's what this was about. Elodie stared at him, incredulous. "You want me to cover for you with Sylvie? Make it easier to lie to your grandmother?"

What exactly did he take her for?

Jarrod met her eyes, adjusting his cufflinks with practiced calm. "If you hadn't come, none of this trouble would've happened."

A tight knot formed in Elodie's chest. So it was her fault, then?

Pressing her lips together, she forced herself to stay composed. "Fine. But you approve my resignation-immediately."

Jarrod's dark eyes narrowed slightly, a faint, ambiguous smirk touching his lips. "That's acceptable."

Elodie couldn't make sense of that smile.

She turned and walked straight back to her room.

No wonder Jarrod hadn't told her about coming to Mount Serene he'd brought Sylvie here for a romantic getaway. If she'd known, she never would have come.

She

was a riding stable, and guests could go horseback riding with a guide. It sounded like a decent

headed straight

"Ivan! Stop nudging me! Are you trying to

man's lazy, teasing reply drifted over. "Blame

in

looked up, dazed. A man and woman shared a horse, the man's arm around her

gaze darkening, a frown flickering

once saying a harsh word. He'd been her first love, the one who'd given her years of

trouble, she'd agreed to marry Jarrod in exchange for Malcom's promise to reduce Ivan's sentence. Even if she'd moved on, Ivan was still family-her most important person. Now, he

Jarrod and never won his heart. And Ivan—he'd loved her once, hadn't

love soured into nothing? Had

turned to leave quietly, not

for lunch? My friend

Queenie. Elodie hesitated, surprised. So Queenie knew Sylvie?

all about her

her, Jarrod's wife, and how

thanks. I've already eaten," Elodie replied, her mood plummeting as she turned to

nudged Ivan. "Your sister doesn't look well. Is she sick?

grown woman. She'll survive. No