How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Patricia was completely shaken by what had happened.

She just couldn't understand how she'd ended up like this. She came from the

best possible background—her father was a man of power, her mother one of the

country's rare self-made businesswomen—so how on earth had she fallen so far?

All she could do was clutch at the bars between them, fingers tangled in Watts's

sleeve, her eyes red as she stared at him. “You’ve thought of something, haven’t

you? Watts, you know me—I can’t survive in a place like that! It’s torture! And for

three whole years?”

She had never, in all her life, felt this kind of fear.

Never could she have imagined tripping up over something like this. If it hadn’t

been Jarrod who was caught with the banned substances, she would have

walked away untouched. But the night before she left for her art show abroad,

Jarrod had pushed her too far. She’d let her emotions get the best of her, let

herself spiral out of control—and, just her luck, that was the night she got caught

red-handed.

Watts glanced down at Patricia’s grip, noticing how she’d wrinkled his shirt sleeve.

His obsessive nature recoiled at the sight; he hated things like this, and Patricia

knew it—she just never cared. Only her own feelings ever mattered.

“If there was a way out,” he said, indulging her just one last time, “do you really

think you’d still be here? I warned you ages ago: you and Jarrod were never right

for each other. You trying to dominate him was always doomed to fail.”

were bloodshot, but she managed a bitter smile. “I

just wanted to

stared at him, her voice hardening. “Didn’t you say you liked

anything for me—even try to get close to Elodie? I’m not

my father into saving

seemed to echo in

Liked her?

ago, he’d said

was seven that he

blood.

turned into the person she

discovered the truth about herself and fought

From that moment on, she’d spiraled further and

out of control.

overseas for college, just

during Patricia’s

had

and volatile

diagnosed with bipolar disorder.

been there for her,

lowest. For two years,

of her,

about what

she clung stubbornly

years of

clashed with

as well, only to

spectacularly. Both failures weighed

and he’d

on.

at the woman in front of him, even

and fade.

expression cooled,

her hand off

nothing to be

Jarrod’s revenge—Patricia, I don’t