How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Chapter 584

Elodie truly couldn't fathom people like Sylvie.

Some people glide through life so easily, even after causing so much pain to others, and yet they can still show up at your door, utterly shameless, pretending to plead for forgiveness-while never once acknowledging what they've actually

done wrong.

Even when Sylvie put on her most humble act, Elodie could see right through it. It wasn't remorse, just desperation. She simply couldn't bear the consequences and was grasping at whatever she could.

Elodie's lack of mercy left Sylvie frozen, her expression stiff for a long moment.

All the resentment Sylvie had tried to bury started to bubble up again, but she swallowed it. Her lips trembled—she hated Elodie's cold composure, hated having to beg-but she softened her tone regardless. "I know you hate me. Do whatever you want, just... as long as you don't press charges, Elodie. Believe it or not, I didn't even know that code was yours. I just-"

couldn't finish

simply a desperate grab for something she

And if that wasn't enough, she rallied people to hurl abuse at my mom until she fell into depression, became terrified of people, and was forced to give up her dreams. She got tricked into a rushed marriage that eventually destroyed her. Selma

time Elodie had ever spoken

of kindness, and she never would've fallen into Malcom Harcourt's trap, stumbling into another disaster of a

exhibits, attaching sweet, innocent voice recordings from Sylvie "Hi, Auntie, I hope you're well!"-and always closing with the same line: "It's such a pity you didn't graduate, or you'd get to see

tired of rubbing salt into the

only stopped a

known about these emails until much later. She still couldn't

Sylvie, she didn't hesitate