How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Elodie had just taken her seat at the dining table when she saw Jarrod's friend request pop up on her phone.

Emile was ladling soup into her bowl.

“It's seafood chowder tonight—extra oysters, just for you. You need to keep your strength up before the surgery. No matter how small the procedure, it'll take a toll on your body. Nutrition is important." Emile, who'd never married, had always treated Elodie like his own child.

Now that Elodie was facing cancer, he understood all too well what illness felt like. He'd been through it himself, and it hadn't been easy-let alone for someone as delicate as Elodie.

"Uncle, I can do it myself, really." Elodie tore her eyes from the phone and quickly reached for the bowl Emile was handing her.

"Mr. Silverstein messaged you?" Emile had noticed her checking her phone.

As for Jarrod, he couldn't say he disliked the man; in fact, he rather admired him.

Setting emotions aside, Jarrod was, in his eyes, the standout among his generation. There was nothing to fault.

Elodie just smiled softly, not saying much.

Emile set aside another bowl for Rosemary, who hadn't returned from her walk yet, and said gently, "Actually, I couldn't sleep last night. I stepped out on the balcony for some air, and saw Mr. Silverstein's car parked down the street. He didn't leave not all night. When I got up early this morning, he was still there. Only left a little while ago."

else could

for her the whole

was a quiet ache to it—not the kind

be struggling with Elodie's illness,

this, checked the time

in the

a word about

who was now lost in thought, eyes fixed

stared at the screen, pondering, when a

swipe it away, but

opened and she found herself staring

the police. Their faces were blurred, but the headline was explosive, screaming "Illegal Gathering." The article was littered with hints: "famed prodigy artist," "heiress of a major corporation," "international art show in preparation." Anyone paying

as well have been

She

news was impossible.unless Jarrod had pulled some strings. In elite circles, real gossip about the upper crust

this time, the story involved illegal substances. The fallout wouldn't be

Jarrod had just fired