How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

4:00 PM.

Outside, the sky hung heavy and gray, and a sharp wind rattled the windowpanes.

Elodie's phone buzzed again—it was her grandmother calling.

"Gran, is everything alright?"

Rosemary hardly ever called her during work hours, not unless something urgent had come up.

There was a pause on the other end before Rosemary finally said, "Elodie, remember I mentioned selling the house a while ago? You wouldn't let me, so instead, I've put your mother's old, closed-down art gallery on the market. It's just sitting there collecting dust, and I thought it'd be better to get you some cash for it..."

She felt Elodie ought to know.

Life in the Silverstein family hadn't been easy for Elodie. Rosemary couldn't bear to see her only granddaughter looked down on, and she was certain Elodie's mother would have agreed.

Elodie's expression shifted.

So that call earlier-it was real.

"Gran, you don't need to worry about whether I have enough money. I'm working now, and my yearly bonus will be more than enough. There's no need to sell the gallery."

She knew her grandmother meant well—she simply feared Elodie would have no standing in the Silverstein family and wanted to give her something solid to hold onto.

Rosemary hesitated, then pressed on, "But the buyer's really interested and offered a good price. Maybe you could at least go take a look?"

her brow. "Alright, I'll go

saying

her sell the house, she'd decided to sell the gallery instead to give Elodie a little security. After all, you can't take these things with you when you go. If it could give Elodie some protection, then it

her things, called back the buyer, got

office, a young man greeted her, wearing a broad, practiced smile. "Ms. Thorne, the buyer is quite wealthy. You'll

Elodie didn't respond.

until she was led into the

of the people

clenched her fists

over at her, unhurried, his gaze cool. "Got time to talk

suddenly she understood why he'd called

Sylvie and Maurice,

seemed unsurprised, but Maurice raised

took a slow, steadying breath and walked over.

his head. "Not me. It's

an art enthusiast, had brought back dozens of paintings from abroad, and needed a permanent home for

a gallery

himself was surprised to discover the seller

face went even paler, cold air filling her

hadn't seen this coming

legs crossed. "My mother really likes the gallery's

pressed her lips into a thin line, eyes fixed straight