How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Chapter 499

The moment those words left his lips, Elodie caught sight of someone approaching from the side.

Sylvie still stood by Jarrod's side. Hearing the comment, she didn't seem flustered; instead, she glanced at Jarrod with a hint of resignation in her eyes.

Maurice came over, eyebrows lifted in surprise. "What's that supposed to mean? Mr. Mercer's chasing after you? Wants to marry you?"

He shot Jarrod a look. "Looks like Sylvie's got some stiff competition, huh?"

There it was the rivalry was out in the open. Someone else was openly vying for Sylvie's hand.

If any ordinary man were in Jarrod's shoes, he'd probably be feeling the pressure right about now, wanting to claim Sylvie as his own before it was too late.

Sylvie didn't answer, which, in itself, was an answer.

The moment Grady caught sight of Jarrod, his expression stiffened, but he kept silent, choosing not to explain himself.

Elodie, quick on her feet, pulled Esmeralda behind her. Her gaze toward Jarrod was icy, guarded.

After all, Esmeralda's earlier description of Sylvie hadn't exactly been flattering. Elodie wasn't sure if Jarrod had overheard.

And besides, Jarrod had bought the painting again just to hide it away, going out of his way to protect Sylvie and her mother. That alone left Elodie with little reason to show him any warmth.

Jarrod merely shot Elodie a sidelong glance, clearly noting her defensive posture.

effort to argue or even acknowledge Grady. He simply turned his head and

thinking: Jarrod knows her heart already belongs to him— that's why he never feels the need to

in front of Jarrod, that Grady had feelings for her? Maybe that

Maurice had said, men are natural competitors; they're wired to want what others do. Jarrod, seeing how many people are interested in her, might finally start to reconsider his own intentions. Maybe inviting Grady today

passed each other

retreating figure for a moment, then turned to Elodie. "If you hadn't come today, none of

wonder she didn't faint. "I'm going home after this. No way are my parents going to

"Let's get what we came for. The

here, I'll

that, she dashed

finally turned her frown back to where Jarrod stood. There was something she'd been puzzling over. The last time, Jarrod had bought that painting for Sylvie, but now it was back here at

exhibition followed a familiar

guests had arrived, and Selma herself

to the crowd.

roamed the gallery, snapping photos

agenda: the

would be interviewed about

in the paintings-each one echoing traces of her mother-her chest tightened

tricky. Without irrefutable evidence, and

Winifred, gone, pursuing justice

easy. If things had

have used it as