How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

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 if he'd

pocketed his phone without replying. He had no

stood up. "Book a table. I'm having

paused, then glanced back. "Maurice and Joseph

"Yes, sir.

make introductions.

volumes. Only Ms. Fielding could make Mr. Silverstein put in

last-minute business dinner and wanted

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

devoted to managing Jarrod's every need, she'd hardly lived her own life-she

and daily life had been so demanding, she'd had no

uncertain, all she could do was try to enjoy

wrapped her

Alexander's dinner and went

thinks highly of Ms. Fielding, bringing her here in

through the gap. She saw Jarrod's tall figure, his arm loosely around Sylvie's shoulders, his gaze soft and

joked. "I wouldn't be surprised if Ms. Fielding soon became

in. "With Ms. Fielding keeping things in order at home,

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

clutching the doorknob,