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.

were practically strangers now what was there

leaning in conspiratorially. "Between us, I think

Sylvie, the mention of a prenatal appointment made Elodie's hand drift unconsciously to her belly—the

legs felt heavy as

wounds can't be

wandering around when

voice sounded

her surprise, found Ivan

with a wry smile. Who knows how much

wet her parched throat. "What are

me and said you

back when, Ivan had

he'd be there

But now...

quietly. "My friend didn't

stepped forward, effortlessly removing her IV and pressing a cotton pad to the spot. "You fainted from a

swarming around him. Whenever Elodie got jealous or upset, she'd magically come down with some "illness" or "injury" that required his immediate

at the hand he held, then calmly pulled her wrist free and put a little distance between them. "You really