How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Marrying Jarrod wasn't a choice Elodie made freely; each step along the way had left her with no other options.

She couldn't argue with Alexander's words.

Alexander stood up. "I'll go grab you some water. Wait here."

Elodie glanced at the IV drip, nearly finished now, and considered calling a nurse to remove the needle. But the ER was in chaos-nurses bustling everywhere, no one to spare a moment. She climbed out of bed and took a few steps, but seeing no one available, she leaned against the wall to rest.

Nearby, two women were chatting idly.

"Guess who I just saw? Mr. Silverstein from The Silverstein Group! He rushed into the hospital just now!"

Elodie thought she'd misheard.

Jarrod? Here, at the hospital?

Could he actually be here for her?

The idea seemed far-fetched. He never spent more effort on her than absolutely necessary.

The women's voices floated over again. "Mr. Silverstein brought a stunning woman with him. You should've seen how anxious he was about her."

Of course.

nor disappointment. They were practically strangers now

leaning in conspiratorially. "Between us, I think they're here for a

Elodie's hand drift unconsciously to her belly—the place she'd soon lose the

felt

persistent ache in her chest reminded her that some wounds can't be forgotten just because you tell yourself to

wandering around when

man's easygoing voice sounded behind

to her

had one hand in his pocket, watching her with a wry smile. Who knows how much of the gossip he'd

wet her parched throat. "What are

and said you fainted. They needed your ID

phone number for years, and way back when, Ivan

he'd be there

But now...

said quietly.

to the spot. "You fainted from a cold and a fever? Elodie, you're still the same as when you

he'd always had admirers swarming around him. Whenever Elodie got jealous or upset,

her wrist free and put a little distance between them. "You really didn't