How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Chapter 58

She was always quiet, keeping mostly to herself, and with him, she was nothing if not politely distant.

Joseph pressed his lips together. "Glad to hear it."

Elodie turned to glance at him. "Is there anything else you need, Mr. Delacroix?"

He caught her meaning and shook his head. "No, that's all. I'll leave you in peace."

After he left, Elodie lingered a while longer, enjoying the solitude. Nights like this, when everything was still, were surprisingly comforting. As the hour grew late, she finally got up, ready to head back into her tent.

The moment she stood, she heard footsteps nearby, and the faint glow of a lantern flickered through the darkness.

A woman's voice, soft and edged with laughter, floated over. "Is this your tent?"

Elodie looked toward the sound.

Sylvie stood arm-in-arm with the tall, broad-shouldered Jarrod. He ducked inside the tent first, with Sylvie following close behind. They disappeared together into the same tent.

They're sharing a tent...

Elodie's gaze flickered, the realization catching her off guard. She hadn't expected that—especially with Jarrod knowing she'd be staying here tonight. He didn't even try to avoid her.

Her fingers tightened around her thermos. She turned and headed back to her

own tent.

suites, complete with soft

that was something of a

tent at dawn, she passed by Jarrod's. Only then did she notice it was already empty-the beds were perfectly made, as if no one had

think much of it and caught the

clean, and Elodie felt herself relax

the stalls, chatting on the phone. "How come I didn't see my

other end said something

amusement. "You

of the night?

paused, realization

here last night after

weren't private enough for...well, for

lovers always a

the only explanation that

there, lost in thought for a moment, then

make sure she looked as calm and

would last until

she finally came downstairs, she learned

her presence a little too much to

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