How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Chapter 506

Chapter 506

Selma looked pale, her face drained of color, but her expression remained dark and troubled.

Sylvie wasn't faring much better.

The day's events had spiraled so far out of control that she genuinely didn't know how to clean up the mess.

"I just don't get it. How did everything fall apart so suddenly...?”

Selma drew a shaky breath, her eyes rimmed red with frustration.

The reputation and standing she'd spent years building had crumbled in a single afternoon, and she simply couldn't accept it.

Elodie had shown up-not to support them, but to cause a scene.

And even the painting they'd gifted Patricia as a gesture of goodwill had turned into a knife pointed at their backs.

"What happened with that painting?" Sylvie's voice was colder than usual, the unfamiliar edge betraying her own turmoil. Maybe if she sounded detached, she could keep her emotions in check.

Selma squeezed her eyes shut. "I've always kept 'Extinction' close to me. Even you didn't know I had it. A while ago, I decided to put it away in the gallery, locked up and out of sight, since no one knew about it. But... somehow, Beverly ended up sorting through it."

She'd kept 'Extinction' in its own locked room.

She'd never even told Beverly to go near that door.

So how had Patricia just happened to stumble in there?

the one time she'd

did you insist on keeping that painting? If you'd just gotten rid of it

flashing with something sharp. "Because I had to prove

scholarship dreams had evaporated, and she'd never managed to catch

the same place, maybe things

her mother, sudden

was her demon,

though it was dangerous, unable to let go of the injustice of

you should get some rest. I'll try to handle this." Sylvie didn't want to

Selma

face the fallout? She would probably never regain her standing, maybe even be blacklisted from the

having her heart ripped

still couldn't

careful, even telling Beverly explicitly never

when she'd stored 'Extinction'

2

IMS

and call Jarrod when Selma's phone, lying on the table, started to

at the screen-it was Faust, the director of

the caller

a frown,

"Mr. Faust?"

I interrupting?" Faust sounded as

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