How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

She clenched her fingers and said evenly, "No one wants to get a stye. Just so everyone's aware."

She didn't want to explain, nor did she feel the need to.

Jarrod studied her, his expression unreadable.

"Stop making excuses. If I hadn't caught you, you'd never have admitted it," Octavia complained, glaring at her. "This is so annoying. This is a guesthouse- everything's taken care of here. Why are you even following us around? We don't need you."

For the past three years, to escape her mother's nagging, Octavia often spent weekends or holidays at her brother's place. Elodie had always fussed over her like a housekeeper.

Octavia had gotten used to it, so she automatically assumed that Elodie was using the pretense of looking after her to stir up trouble for everyone.

"What's going on?" Queenie and Ivan came out one after the other.

Ivan glanced at the isolated, outnumbered Elodie and grinned. "Mr. Silverstein, why's the mood so tense?"

Octavia, though young, could read the room. She knew Ivan was, at least in name, Elodie's brother, so she just pursed her lips and fell silent.

But Elodie understood-Ivan was offering her a way out, a chance to move past this.

Sylvie didn't comment, just turned to Queenie. "Let's go grab a bite."

Queenie wasn't interested in the drama either, and left with Sylvie.

smiled lazily, as if he hadn't even noticed Elodie's awkward predicament. "Mr. Silverstein, I'll leave you to your family

was parading his mistress around he

like she wanted to say more, but Jarrod shot her a look.

on Ivan's

are you looking at?" Jarrod's cool, detached voice snapped

and met his deep, inscrutable

was cold,

spying on you,"

your phone." He almost sounded like he

Elodie frowned. "Why?"

Jarrod reached out and plucked the phone from her hand. His long

finally changed. She was so stunned her breath trembled. "You actually think I'd sneak photos

this supposed to be some kind of

through-nothing inappropriate there-then

black eyes were cold and sharp, his tone so indifferent it made her skin prickle. "Three years ago you managed to invite the press to photograph us in bed. Is there anything Mrs. Silverstein wouldn't

couldn't let go of what happened three years

shamelessly taken advantage of him when he was drunk. That she'd called in the reporters to publicize their affair. That she'd forced

how she explained herself, it all seemed weak

nothing to prove her

your thing with Sylvie will

"She's different. If photos like that got out,

was clear: there was a world of difference between her and