How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

A chill ran down Queenie's spine.

If Ivan suddenly wanted to call off the wedding, who else could it be because of?

The two of them—Elodie and Ivan-had gone upstairs one after the other, almost as if it was arranged.

Queenie clenched her fists for a long time, but before Elodie could notice her, she slipped away.

But now, a bigger problem gnawed at her: Jarrod didn't know about Elodie's pregnancy, or that she was planning to end it?

The thought left her pale and lost in anxious silence.

Ivan finally looked away from the landing when he saw Queenie coming downstairs. Taking in how drawn and tired she looked, he said, "Let me drive you home."

Queenie bit her lip and met his gaze. "I lost my baby, Ivan. You owe me for that."

Ivan paused mid-step, a frown creasing his brow. It was the truth, and he couldn't deny it.

Their last fight had ended with Queenie threatening him with the baby, which had pushed him to the breaking point—and led directly to the accident. Queenie had suffered terribly because of it.

"We'll talk about it later," he said tightly, walking out the door without another word.

She resisted the urge to argue, but the grief and anger from losing her child bubbled up, and she couldn't help but lash out. "If you want to put it bluntly, Ivan, losing the baby was Elodie's fault too. If you'd handled things with her, I wouldn't have been so upset, and my child would still be alive."

At that, Ivan turned to face her, his voice cold. "Queenie, stick to the facts. Don't drag other people into this. You know perfectly well Elodie had nothing to do with it."

Queenie froze.

He was right.

She did know.

She couldn't let go of Ivan, couldn't blame him, and yet her

want to argue about Elodie. Even if things had gotten complicated between them, he wouldn't let anyone badmouth

in the car without looking

stomach and

spread; plenty of people knew, including the

insisted she come stay with

she wouldn't have to have another

stepped inside the Harcourt house, she realized she

was another woman in the living room-someone

that she quickly masked with a show of concern. She stepped forward, feigning

was secretly delighted that Queenie had lost the baby. If the

drawn to

you know Ms. Aldridge?" Queenie asked, unable to hide

smiled, waving away the question. “It's a long story. Ms. Aldridge helped our family land a major overseas deal. I invited her here today as a thank you. You

Patricia glanced at Queenie,

memory. The upper-class social scene was small enough that they'd crossed paths, but Patricia rarely

remember anyone who die

a fasting impression.

same high school,"

yes. Sorry, I

to Queenie's belly. "And you