How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Emile still looked thin, the effects of chemotherapy leaving him pale and frail. He always wore a knitted beanie to cover his head.

When Elodie arrived, she found him out on the balcony, soaking up the afternoon

sun.

She couldn't help but remember her own early days of chemo-the weakness, the hollowed cheeks. For a moment she drifted, lost in the memory, before snapping back and holding out two carefully wrapped gifts. "Happy birthday, Uncle. These are from me and Jarrod."

For Emile, she had hunted down a rare physics book-something specific to his field that had taken her ages to find.

Once, her uncle had been a renowned physics professor, respected in academic circles and beloved by generations of students. He'd dedicated his life to science, and if not for the events of years past, he might have been as esteemed as Professor Charlie himself.

The other gift, chosen on Jarrod's behalf, was a luxury fountain pen. It had cost over a thousand dollars-practical for her uncle and very much in line with Jarrod's taste.

"Is Mr. Silverstein busy?" Emile asked with a cheerful smile as he accepted the gifts.

Elodie nodded, seizing the excuse. "Yeah, it's the end of the year. He's swamped."

explain things to her grandmother and uncle was nearly impossible. He'd never loved her, and he saw dealing with her family as nothing but a pointless

toward the front door. Seeing no one else, she shook her head in mild disappointment and set a dish of sweet-and-sour ribs on the table.

at Elodie. Her life was in shambles, and her grandparents and uncle worried about her constantly. Worse, neither of them had ever received the

bring herself to tell them the truth. After all, Jarrod's affair was with the daughter of the very woman who had once stolen her mother's research and smeared her mother's reputation. If her grandmother and

and help her out of this mess-but that seemed more

Being busy at year's end is normal. The birthday isn't a big deal," Emile said, patting her shoulder in

and your uncle. We don't care about fancy gestures or gifts. As long as he treats you well,

his features. "You haven't looked well lately. Are you feeling alright? Have you seen a

behind a polished facade. He couldn't quite put his finger on it, but her face seemed

ready to tell them about her diagnosis—she could only buy time. "I'm

stress? Don't ever feel like you have to bend over backwards for Jarrod's family. Worst case, I'll sell this place

easily over ten million. No matter what happened with

shook her head. "Please, you and Grandpa made this house a home. It should never be sold. It means too much." Rosemary squeezed her hand, her eyes soft with love, and

including a collage of

screenshots were from Sylvie's social media. Her caption: "Happiness,