How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Chapter 470

The exhibition hall seemed almost like a maze, yet after looping around, Elodie found herself once again catching sight of the same group not far away.

Sylvie stood beside Jarrod, her smile subtle and measured. "Jarrod, this gallery is so high-end. I was just thinking, when my mother holds her next exhibition, maybe she could host it here. I'd like to rent this place."

This art museum was, without question, one of the finest in all of Eldermere— prestigious, exclusive, and renowned for featuring only the most celebrated artists. It was the perfect stage for her family to make a splash.

Jarrod lowered his gaze to her. "This place belongs to the Barnes family. You'd need to check with President Barnes about availability."

Sylvie's smile widened. "Of course. I'll ask."

"I can ask for you," Jarrod said, nodding as if it were no trouble at all.

Nearby, Maurice had just finished filming a painting. He turned and grinned at them. “Look at that, Jarrod always goes the extra mile for you."

Sylvie felt it too, a sweetness blooming in her chest. She couldn't help but smile.

But as she turned, her gaze landed on Elodie and Esmeralda across the hall. Sylvie's eyes narrowed ever so slightly, her expression laced with silent disdain.

Elodie caught her wrist. "Not here," she murmured quietly. "This is the Barnes family's place. Don't

long as they kept their distance, she

passed each other, Jarrod's gaze

Louisa approached from down the

gathered her thoughts. Louisa hadn't been particularly warm to her earlier, and she was wondering how best to

ask. "I heard this space is sometimes available for private events. Ms.

a surge of happiness welling in her eyes. Jarrod was taking care of it

gaze shifted to Sylvie. "Ms. Fielding wants

"So, Mr. Silverstein, you're calling in a

through his intentions instantly. She

just anyone, but with Jarrod making

composed. "If you're willing, let's

appraisal. "Mr. Silverstein, you really do go

favor from Jarrod Silverstein was no small

glance at his profile. Touched as she was,

Jarrod's kinat,

real, and that