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.

passing but didn't bother with a

knew Elodie well. In the past, she'd made a point to befriend them—lunches, coffee

small talk, one of them said, "You might be waiting a while, Elodie. Mr. Silverstein's got a

a wink. "More like the apple of his eye." Elodie

in meetings, too swamped with work to see her. He was with Sylvie—and

owns the place.

my god—are we talking about some

listened numbly, feeling like a spectator in

the wife, had to make appointments

Everyone else cleared the way

of tea, then hurried

waited nearly two hours. People came and went from the executive

here forever. She spotted Keith rounding the

still

stack of files in hand, and gave a crooked smile.

supposed

but Mr. Silverstein didn't know you were waiting. He left with Ms. Fielding for lunch over an hour ago. Didn't you

was no mistaking the cool calculation in his

he deliberately kept Jarrod in the dark about her being here? Or had