How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Elodie hadn't been looking well lately.

She'd noticed it herself the last time-now, she'd fainted again.

Did Jarrod... know about any of this?

Elodie didn't sleep a wink that night.

When morning came, she felt drained, her nerves frayed. The looming issue with the gallery hung over her like a guillotine, impossible to ignore. She couldn't shake the feeling that things weren't over yet.

After turning it over in her mind, she decided to take matters into her own hands.

She called Jarrod, but whatever he was doing, he didn't pick up. Or maybe-he just didn't want to.

Either way, Elodie no longer cared about the why.

She headed straight for The Silverstein Group.

She'd worked there for three years-long enough that the receptionist recognized her. Elodie phoned Keith in the executive office; his voice was as chilly as ever. "Mr. Silverstein is busy, Ms. Thorne. You'll have to wait."

Elodie made her way upstairs and settled into the lounge.

her in passing but didn't bother with a greeting, just turned and went about

was the other assistants who knew Elodie well. In the past, she'd made a point to

pleased to see her, and after some small talk, one of them said, "You might be waiting a while,

"More like the apple of his eye." Elodie didn't need to ask-she knew

Jarrod wasn't stuck in meetings, too swamped with work to see her. He

"She waltzes in and out of The Silverstein Group like she owns the place. No restrictions,

we talking about some

listened numbly, feeling like a spectator in

appointments

out, untouchable. Everyone else cleared the way

Elodie a cup of tea, then hurried

two hours. People came and went from the executive suite, but no one came to

sit here forever. She spotted

still busy?"

in hand, and gave a crooked

that supposed

you were waiting. He left with Ms. Fielding for lunch

was no mistaking

her being here? Or had Jarrod known, and simply