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.

Let's go,” he said flatly, making no effort to argue or even acknowledge Grady. He simply turned his head

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

of Jarrod, that Grady had feelings for her? Maybe that was

interested in her, might finally start to

passed each other

figure for a moment, then turned to Elodie. "If you hadn't come today, none of this would've happened," he said

she didn't faint. "I'm going home after this. No

forgetting their earlier plan, calmed her down. "Let's get what

nodded. "You wait here, I'll

she

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

and Selma

to the crowd.

few journalists roamed the gallery, snapping photos for

agenda:

would be interviewed

one echoing traces of her mother-her

property disputes were always tricky. Without

Winifred, gone, pursuing justice

easy. If

Selma might have used it as