How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Chapter 332

Chapter 332

Even someone as level-headed as Elodie found her patience wearing thin.

Ivan had always been this way-overbearing, flamboyant, and sharp-tongued to an infuriating degree.

She snatched her phone from his hand, her expression turning icy cold. "Let go of me," she said, her voice flat.

Ivan's hand was still clamped around her arm.

He had seen this bristling side of Elodie more than once lately. A faint sting prickled somewhere in his chest, but Ivan brushed it aside, letting the discomfort mutate into defiance. His smile grew even colder. "You changed your number and didn't bother to tell me?"

"Do you really think you're that important?" Elodie shot back, her tone calm and utterly dismissive.

For a split second, Ivan was caught off guard. Then the warmth drained from his eyes, replaced by a chill.

Elodie clearly had no intention of arguing further.

With a stony face, she pulled herself free.

Just then, footsteps sounded in the hallway.

two inside, arched a brow. He glanced at Jarrod beside him and whispered, "What's Elodie doing scrapping with

expression didn't so much as

She ignored him completely and strode toward the exit, her face impassive. Even when she saw Jarrod and Maurice, she didn't so much as glance their way-walking right past Jarrod without a hint of acknowledgment, as if she'd never

was out of the

looked even

seeing the newcomers, let his irritation fade and curved his

Elodie. Turning to Jarrod, he asked, "What's up with those

Ping-

He glanced at the

message from Sylvie: Don't worry about picking up an iced drink for me— I'm not feeling

back a quick "OK," barely

his head, Jarrod replied to

them, spelled out his indifference in bold. Maurice

to their group chat and breathlessly recounted everything he'd

Joseph didn't reply.

sent a

up with a thumbs-up,

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