How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Chapter 142

Chapter 141

She didn't want Elodie and Jarrod to have much contact.

Nor did she like the idea of Elodie's scent or traces lingering on Jarrod-his clothes, his things, his private space.

Jarrod didn't protest.

He glanced up.

Through the rearview mirror, he caught sight of a slender figure who'd just reached the bus stop.

She swayed slightly, as if fighting a faintness—maybe low blood sugar or something else forced to steady herself on the metal side of an ad board.

She looked unwell.

His eyes stayed cold and indifferent, but still, he spoke. "Pull over."

Sylvie and Octavia looked up.

Octavia was first to spot Elodie's predicament. She guessed what Jarrod was thinking and muttered irritably, "Jarrod, are you really falling for her act? She's just upset from before and putting on a show!"

"Just ignore her. If you pay her any mind, she'll take advantage." Octavia pleaded, eager to be gone.

Sylvie glanced back too, lips quirking in silent amusement.

were becoming more

chasing after a man who didn't

looked once more in the rearview,

out to tug Jarrod's

her elbow bumped Sylvie's

Sylvie inhaled sharply.

panicked. "Did I hurt

immediately turned back, concern written

seeing how much he cared, smiled gently. "It's nothing. I just bumped my wrist yesterday while checking some parts at the workshop. It's much better now." "Why didn't you

you to worry." Sylvie shook her

his lips, then looked at the driver. "Take us to

had no energy left to

and couldn't help but let

still leaning against the ad board, her

roar of a car engine and turned to

had washed right over her, lingering

hadn't looked back, hadn't

care what was happening with them. She simply

cold crept into her bones, making her shiver. She waited for her ride-share to arrive, then

the corner, and the company

no need to spend New Year's with

was small, her mother gone,

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