How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Chapter 543

"I just saw Ms. Fielding heading into Mr. Silverstein's suite..."

"Are you sure? Did you really see her?"

"As sure as I am standing here. She walked in clear as day-and Mr. Silverstein was already back in his room."

Elodie's limbs felt like lead, her head throbbing with each heartbeat. Still, she forced herself to focus, catching every word of their conversation.

But she had no energy to care about any of it.

That was their business, not hers.

She could barely hold herself together as it was.

Mustering what little strength she had left, Elodie made her way to her room. She glanced up at the brass-plated number on the door, double-checked it, then slipped inside and shut the door behind her. Half-blind in the darkness, she staggered across the plush carpet, fumbling her way to the bed.

She collapsed face-first onto the covers.

Downstairs, the party raged on.

Those who could still keep up were playing and drinking well into the night. Plenty of others had already given up, retiring to their rooms before midnight.

Watts had no interest in joining the games. He stood alone on the deck, leaning over the railing, a glass of whiskey warming his hand.

Before long, Patricia sauntered over, swirling her own drink. She flashed him a bright, teasing smile. "Still out here by yourself?”

Watts shot her a glance. "What of it?"

eyes glinting. "Aren't you going to

bother replying. He just stared out into the darkness,

curved in a sly little smirk. "Room 6103. I just made things easier

attention. He frowned

her hand, laughing softly. "Take

table where Elodie had been sitting earlier. Her

followed her line of

demeanor shifted, eyes sharpening. "Patricia, what did

of a kick. You know, the sort that loosens people up," Patricia said, utterly nonchalant. She didn't elaborate

stare hardened. "Patricia, you need to know when

for her

his drink aside and strode off, not even looking back, tearing up

to

shimmering with mischief. Only after a long while did she turn away and take a

Well, between men and women, a little risk just

Patricia's expression didn't change; she ran a finger along the rim of her glass, let out

in endless rhythm against the

the party's echoes washing over everything,

l.ne

pressed in from all sides. Maybe it was the unfamiliar setting, maybe the night's excess, but she couldn't shake

to move, a sharp pain stabbing at

muscle felt

her back, staring up at the ceiling light for a long, dazed

mind was

turned her

of