How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Chapter 338

Chapter 338

Elodie's voice was steady as ice-each word clear, clipped, and utterly detached. Even in anger, she never lost control; her calm, restrained demeanor was somehow more unsettling than outright fury.

Her gaze, frosted and unyielding, was fixed squarely on Jarrod.

She didn't even bother directing her accusation at Sylvie and Selma. They weren't worth the effort. Elodie refused to stoop to their level or get dragged into a scene with them.

She knew all too well how people measured their actions by the company they kept. If not for Jarrod's silent indulgence, Selma wouldn't have dared to act this way.

Why was that?

Because even when Jarrod said nothing, his mere presence emboldened them.

So Elodie went straight to the root of the problem.

Jarrod's expression didn't change. Underneath that surface calm was the habitual indifference of someone who'd spent years not caring.

He said nothing.

her eyes mocking. "Elodie,

just to

Elodie was blowing things wildly out of proportion. "The cake was being shared with

eyes glinted

now this was her

curved in a frosty half-smile. "A mistake, was it? Then perhaps I should 'accidentally' let slip a word

of cold sharpness

either of them

was dignified to throw a

"Let's talk outside."

At last.

deep eyes were unreadable as he finally spoke, his voice as calm and flat as

bit concerned about disturbing Selma's peace. It

In the corridor, Jarrod leaned against the wall, looking down at her with those fathomless dark

the outcome. Those two need to be transferred to another

almost anything except when it came to her family. That

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