How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Chapter 117

Elodie hadn't even spoken yet when Sylvie's voice came through the phone, cool and composed: "Who's this?"

Elodie's words caught in her throat, suddenly dry and impossible to swallow.

Jarrod hadn't saved her number with a name in his phone? So she showed up as just another unknown caller?

She stared down at her feet and asked quietly, "Is Jarrod there?"

"He's right here, but I'm afraid he's too busy for you today," Sylvie replied, her tone unhurried, almost amused.

The calm certainty in Sylvie's voice made it clear: in her eyes, Elodie was just the kind of "other woman" meant to be kept in the shadows, easily dismissed at a moment's notice.

Elodie's brow furrowed.

Before she could reply, she heard Keith's voice in the background: "Ms. Fielding, the bakery called. They're asking if we should deliver the cake now."

Without hesitation, Elodie ended the call.

She stood rooted to the spot, her face pale. After a long moment, she pressed a hand to her abdomen, rubbing gently as a wave of discomfort worsened.

There was nothing left to confirm. Keith was handling the cake, which meant Jarrod had given the instructions himself.

a moment. He hadn't even tried to show

dragged her down, making it hard to

Elodie several minutes to gather herself, to force her emotions back into check. When she finally returned to the front garden, she wore a calm, neutral expression, as if nothing

she left than Ivan, standing beneath the cypress trees, stubbed out his cigarette and let out a short, derisive laugh as he

Silverstein Group.

phone back on the desk when Jarrod returned from the conference room. He crossed the office in long strides,

smiled softly. "I was hoping we could go together. Unless you have other work to

could tell he genuinely cared. He'd even arranged for the

dinner together and cut the

looked up. "You go ahead. I have some things I need to finish

with her usual gentle grace. "Alright, I'll

shifted to the

took out an elegant box and set it carefully by Jarrod's hand. "This is a

silk with a subtle red pattern,

lightly. "Let the driver take

Sylvie smiled, satisfied. "Alright."

I've rescheduled your appointments for today. When would

any signs of emotion, but

call about the anniversary. Clearly, Mr. Silverstein was choosing to prioritize Ms. Fielding; Elodie's absence wouldn't matter. She'd