How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

"You came from nothing, your education is average at best—what, is Jarrod supposed to go around telling people his wife's a stay-at-home mom?" Lucinda's tone was frosty, her words edged with contempt she barely tried to hide.

There was nothing about this daughter-in-law she approved of-absolutely nothing. Lucinda had never wanted Elodie in this family, but back then, they'd had no other choice. Even now, she pitied her own son for ending up with someone like her.

Sylvie, on the other hand-the woman Jarrod had been spending more and more time with lately-was at least presentable. Her family was no match for the Silversteins, but at least she had a real education, something Elodie could never compete with.

Elodie understood exactly what Lucinda was implying, but she kept her voice steady. "You won't have to worry about that much longer."

Lucinda's eyes narrowed. "And what's that supposed to mean?"

Before Elodie could reply, a car horn sounded outside.

A tall figure appeared in the foyer. Jarrod's dark eyes swept over the room, taking in the scene. Over the past three years, he'd witnessed his mother's endless attempts to make Elodie's life difficult. Elodie never protested-she'd swallow every insult with downcast eyes and quiet obedience. She never seemed to mind, so why should he get involved?

"I got held up," Jarrod said, his gaze flicking past Elodie as he came to stand beside her. "Grandma, why the long face?"

As he moved closer, Elodie caught the faint scent of perfume on his coat. It wasn't his-the lingering note of white musk was unmistakably feminine.

Sylvie. Only if they'd been close for a while would his clothes have picked up her perfume so strongly.

"You finally made it home! What was so important you had to be

offering no explanation. "I'm starving. Can

direction, Lucinda stood up. "I have

into the family, but she let it go and ushered Elodie and Jarrod toward the

greeting her. Instead, she bounced happily to Jarrod's side, plopping

intent, Octavia had placed

at once. "Octavia, your sister-in-law

need to talk to Jarrod about something," Octavia chirped, glancing at

calmly.

looked up at her,

of affection, always claiming the

bowl in front of him—a

his handsome face unreadable. "Grandma, I'm

her eyes pausing as she

herbal root soup-rich, nourishing, meant

from being too healthy. I've been simmering

too young to understand, just glanced at the