How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

She gazed at the small bedside lamp off to the side, her mind wandering

restlessly, picturing what her daughter might look like. Would she resemble her more, or would she take after Jarrod?

She'd heard people say daughters often look like their fathers.

The thought made her glance up at Jarrod's profile, quiet and composed in the dim light.

His features were striking-sharp yet harmonious, his nose high and elegant but not harsh, a single mole at the bridge giving him a hint of mystery. His eyelids were perfectly creased, and his lips, set against his pale skin, looked almost vividly red. Every detail of his face seemed carefully carved, refined to the last line.

She'd always known-there weren't many faces out there to rival Jarrod's.

If their daughter looked like him...

Well, there'd be nothing to complain about.

She must have stared too long. Her gaze lingered, almost unwittingly, on his lips for a few heartbeats.

Realizing it a moment too late, Elodie's spine stiffened. She averted her eyes quickly, feeling a warm flush creep up to her ears.

She shut her eyes, determined to clear her mind of all these tangled thoughts.

The second her eyelids closed, Jarrod glanced over, catching that awkward, flustered expression of hers for a split second.

fleeting smile tugged at the corner

to find the other side of

eyes

answer from

to freshen up. As she changed, she lifted her shirt before the dressing mirror, checking her abdomen. The small incision had almost completely

balance her recovery. The full

dressed, she headed

already bustling about the

smiled, eyes crinkling. "Morning, Mrs.

Elodie nodded. "Where's Jarrod?"

the clock-surprised to see it was already nine. She almost

began setting out breakfast. "Mr. Silverstein asked me not to wake

go, though a little

excited at the thought of seeing a photo of her daughter this morning. The

it was all she could

the office, that would

session with several pilots to conduct a detailed review of the aircraft Nothing too formal,

nove

private club near their

had to be there