How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

When Elodie woke up, she felt weak and lightheaded, her limbs heavy as lead. As she stirred, Freya's voice rang out in relief, "You're awake! Are you feeling okay? Anywhere still hurt?"

Elodie turned her head. "Why are you here...?"

Freya helped her sit up, fussing over her. "My brother and I brought you to the hospital. He's gone to print your test results. We were worried something was wrong, so we had them run every check-"

"What floor is he on?" Elodie's face changed. She threw off the covers and got out of bed.

Freya blinked in surprise. "He's right on this floor."

Ignoring the lingering ache in her body, Elodie hurried out.

She made straight for the self-service printer in the hallway. Sure enough, Joseph was there, waiting as the machine spat out paper.

Elodie rushed over and yanked the report out before he could react, clutching it tightly.

"You're awake?" Joseph looked both surprised and concerned. "What are you doing out of bed?"

still racing, and she pressed her lips into

moment before handing it over.

out of the ordinary. He hadn't noticed anything unusual in the report. Only then

her condition, Jarrod would know soon enough, and then everything would spiral out

truth, he'd never let her keep her dignity. He might even go to her family, use her illness as an excuse to break things off, and she couldn't bear for things to end like

wasn't ungrateful. "How much were

pressed his lips together. "Don't worry about it. It's nothing. You still look

fever. Nothing serious," Elodie replied, her voice cool

troubled. "But when you were unconscious, you kept crying

curled up even in her sleep, whispering softly as if shielding herself

endured

"Thanks for today. Still, send me

understood the message—she

me

head. "That's not necessary. I'll call

pressed his lips together,