How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Klein and the others were still deep in conversation about policy, oblivious to what was unfolding at their table.

Leaning back in his chair, Jarrod responded to Watts' earlier remark with an easy, unhurried smile. "Mr. Aldridge is a good man-no worries there. I'll continue to support our country's space program in every way I can. Whatever resources are needed, I'll make sure they're provided. I won't let my wife exhaust herself, so Mr. Aldridge can focus on his research without distraction."

His words were like a gentle push, steering the conversation without confrontation.

Watts understood men like Jarrod all too well-men whose minds were fathomless, impossible to outmaneuver. There was a reason why, in their social circles, people would say that among the sons of old families, most were left chasing the scraps left in Jarrod's wake.

With a nonchalant shrug, Watts raised his glass toward Jarrod. "You have my word, Mr. Silverstein. Rest assured."

Both men remained composed, the atmosphere so calm that an outsider would never guess at the tension simmering beneath the surface.

Across the table, Lily watched closely. She noticed a flicker of something hungry in Watts' gaze when he looked at Elodie—a glint of ambition, unmistakable once you saw it.

The realization unsettled her so much that the gourmet food in front of her suddenly lost all appeal.

As for Elodie, she couldn't be bothered to chime in. Her attention was caught by Klein, who was discussing some of the technical barriers currently stalling progress in aerospace.

It was the same old story: foreign monopolies on crucial materials and

countries tightly restricting what they exported. These were issues she'd wrestled with

could ever be broken... it was one of her

Whitaker! I thought it might be you," called a

high heels, waving at Elodie with a bright smile. "What

she made her rounds, shaking hands and greeting everyone with casual warmth. "It's been ages,

this place. I just found

hardly blinked. "Not at all. Pull up a chair

her way to Jarrod's side, extending a hand. “Mr.

but didn't take her hand. He replied coolly, "No need to

she lowered her hand with a graceful

to Watts, who made room for her without

forgot to mention- Mr. Silverstein and I have known

sideways glance.

college together," Patricia said, her eyes narrowing in fond recollection. "Both of us graduated from MIT. He was the of the campus, you know-finished dual PhDs in finance

in the arts back

e talk

following the usual path."

about Jarrod he'd always been several steps