How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Chapter 21

Keith caught on quickly. "Mr. Silverstein, Ms. Thorne didn't come up today."

In other words, she hadn't brought lunch at all.

Jarrod narrowed his eyes, deep in thought.

Keith couldn't help adding, "I checked with PR. They said Ms. Thorne didn't come in to work either-she's officially resigned. Mr. Silverstein, is Ms. Thorne throwing a tantrum with you?"

Elodie used to make her presence felt, showing up every day with lunch. Most of the time, Jarrod ignored it and let Keith deal with the food.

Resigned?

Jarrod hadn't really taken her resignation seriously. He knew exactly how much Elodie needed this respectable, well-paid job.

But now...

She'd come to her senses soon enough.

He barely managed a careless smile, scrolling through his phone until he found Elodie's messages from a week ago her last one, asking if he'd be home for dinner.

She'd stopped reaching out ever since he didn't go with her to the hospital, and after he celebrated Sylvie's birthday instead.

Keith gave a dismissive snort. "Honestly, I think Ms. Thorne's just playing hard to get. She'll come crawling back before long, pretending nothing happened."

Silverstein's attention, huh? As

for a moment, then pocketed his phone without replying. He had no intention of checking

up. "Book a table. I'm having

then glanced back. "Maurice and Joseph went to see President

"Yes, sir.

out. "Have them make introductions.

Ms. Fielding could make

afternoon, Alexander had a last-minute business dinner

diagnosis, she couldn't drink. She made an excuse, and Alexander didn't press; he just asked her to

wandered nearby, not in any rush. She'd spent so long devoted to managing Jarrod's every need, she'd hardly

so demanding, she'd had no energy left to think of

health uncertain, all she could do was

bit at her. She wrapped her grandmother's knitted scarf around her neck and headed

Alexander's dinner and went

Silverstein clearly thinks highly of Ms. Fielding, bringing her here in person.

figure, his arm loosely around Sylvie's shoulders, his gaze

inseparable," someone joked. "I wouldn't be surprised if Ms.

Fielding keeping things in order at home,

deep voice was unhurried, almost gentle. "Sylvie's hands aren't meant for household chores. She has

the doorknob, went

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