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."

to her grandmother and uncle was nearly impossible. He'd never loved her, and he saw dealing with her

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. "Well, it's just us then. Let's enjoy

her grandparents and uncle worried about her constantly. Worse, neither of them had ever received the

who had once stolen her

up and help her out of this mess-but

end is normal. The birthday isn't a big deal," Emile said, patting her

your uncle. We don't care about fancy gestures or

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

behind a

tell them about her diagnosis—she could only buy

you have to bend over backwards for Jarrod's family. Worst case, I'll sell this place and give you the money to invest in your own future. You'll always have me backing

easily over ten million. No matter what happened with the Silversteins, her granddaughter would be

with sudden tears. She 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 let the matter drop. After dinner, Elodie

in a row, including a collage of photos and several candid shots of men and women

Sylvie's social media. Her caption: