How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

They arranged for a private lounge.

The main party slipped away quietly, as if choreographed.

Today, no matter what, everything had to be laid bare.

Esmeralda watched the scene unfold, hastily wiping the corner of her eye before pulling free from Alexander's grasp. "I'm going too."

It was obvious-this was a trial for Elodie.

This time, Alexander didn't try to stop her. Since they'd already decided to make a clean break, there was no point in pretending this was merely "family business behind closed doors." At this point, who did Elodie truly have left on her side? Only he and Esmeralda could still stand up for her.

Jarrod held tightly to Elodie's wrist, silent. She could feel how cold his fingers were.

As they left, Maurice Nilsson and his companions noticed, casting curious glances from afar.

Before they could process what was happening, Ivan Harcourt arrived.

He knew Elodie would be here today and had come to check in. Spotting Maurice, he strode over. "Mr. Nilsson, are Mr. Silverstein and Elodie not here?"

lounge. "They

the indicated direction. He hadn't told Queenie Jett about today; he'd hoped to clear up these

thickened as everyone's gaze settled

the silence at

your grandmother-what's going

explain about the

elderly woman said, her voice steadier now, "I'm not here to blame you. I just need you to be honest with us." For

temple throbbing. Finally, he looked up. "Look, I'd appreciate it if you changed your tone. She's not here to answer your

words made Elodie's

aback. She had assumed Jarrod, resentful over what had happened with the baby, would

name. Her face darkened, but what could she do when her own son sided against

giving her an out. She could choose not to answer; she didn't owe

But...

the relentless pressure —it

drew a deep

clenched her fists, how her posture remained ramrod straight, as if

first to notice the flush in