How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Chapter 496

Even though Sylvie hadn't said a word, Elodie understood her perfectly.

Linking arms with Jarrod in public-especially right in front of her-was Sylvie's way of sending a message to everyone: she was the one Jarrod cared about. And, by extension, it highlighted how little Elodie meant to her own "husband."

Esmeralda's face darkened at the sight. This wasn't subtle at all; it was a blatant provocation.

She started to speak up, but Elodie coolly looked away and squeezed her hand. "Let's go inside."

After all, Sylvie hadn't technically done anything wrong. If she made a scene right now, it would only make her seem petty and jealous, blowing things out of proportion.

Besides, she hadn't come here just to pick a fight. She already had a plan in mind -she needed to stay alert, wait for the right moment, and at the very least, let everyone arrive before making any moves. Otherwise, it'd all be for nothing.

Esmeralda had no choice but to swallow her indignation.

They were here for something important today; she couldn't afford to drag Elodie down.

curator and making sure the whole event was top-tier and flashy. The media coverage over the past few days had been

this glory had been built on her mother's

graduation, had accused her of plagiarizing her senior project. The series was publicly shamed, her mother branded a thief, and the paintings eventually vanished. Even though Jarrod had paid a fortune last year to recover one of them, it was useless-he refused to give

a couple of feathers turns a chicken into a peacock," Esmeralda muttered

glanced around. The event hadn't officially started yet; most of the people milling

turn this

in point: Jarrod

mere presence would draw half the city's socialites—an unspoken show of

the moment she spotted Elodie, she glided over with a bright, practiced smile. "Came on your own? Where's your grandmother?

sweetly, every word

let herself be ruffled so easily. "Don't worry. I'll be sure to pass

surprise crossed Selma's

trace of anger or agitation. What

this excitement? Wouldn't want you to overdo it and ruin everything for yourself," Esmeralda chimed in, her sarcasm barely veiled. She might as well have come right