How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Elodie's eyes flickered as she finally remembered the date for her surgical procedure had arrived, rescheduled because of the new treatment plan.

It was right in this window of time.

Jarrod was injured too, still far from recovered.

Elias walked over, taking a moment to assess Jarrod's condition. He already had some idea of what had happened before he came in.

Jarrod's injuries were serious.

A broken rib had punctured his lung; naturally, he'd need a long period of rest and recovery.

Elias lowered his gaze to Elodie. Beyond her arm in a cast, her face was drawn and pale, the look of someone who'd recently been ill. Her cheeks were flushed with fever, but her overall complexion was ashen and exhausted.

Her hand, resting on the side of the bed, trembled-likely from having barely eaten.

"You haven't had anything to eat?" he asked quietly.

Elodie realized she hadn't. She'd gone straight to Silverstein Group headquarters without stopping for anything.

Now she was beyond tired, running on empty.

Elias was silent for a moment. Then he pulled a still-warm bottle of sweetened milk from his coat pocket and set it beside her hand.

"You need to rest," he said. "Tomorrow's surgery can't afford any more surprises."

Elodie knew he was right; her condition was truly poor.

she could feel it-her body was running on

up back on the operating table right when Jarrod was so badly hurt, but there was no delaying it any longer. Even if Jarrod woke up, he wouldn't be

schedule tomorrow," Elodie exhaled shakily. She had to face

what tomorrow would bring... she had no

saw that Elodie had no intention of leaving, and didn't try to persuade her. He could understand what

twenty-four hours before surgery-so after lunch

a

the bottle. "Stay with him

left, without another

Elodie glanced at

sips of the warm milk, settling her stomach

so exhausted. She hadn't slept

beside the hospital bed and

his eyes, every part of his body

creased

was

his head and saw her-curled up on the

was awkwardly

cheek, as if she

face was tight with worry, even in

breath caught in

to reach out and brush

as he

and let out