How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 116

A chill seemed to seep right through Elodie's chest, as if a cold draft had tunneled straight into her heart.

She stared at the photos Sylvie had sent: one showed the party villa all dressed up for a celebration, the other, a set of emerald jewelry.

She recognized that jewelry—Esmeralda had once bumped into Jarrod and Sylvie at a jewelry boutique, where Jarrod had splurged over a million dollars on it.

So that's what it was for.

A gift for Selma.

No wonder she'd heard nothing from Jarrod after reaching out to Keith. He'd made his choice from the very beginning, hadn't he?

Sylvie's message read: "This will be the most spectacular, lively birthday Mom has ever had. Special thanks to someone… Everyone, look forward to the fireworks tonight!"

Who that "someone" was, didn't need spelling out.

Emotion flickered in Elodie's eyes.

A bitter smile crept across her otherwise calm face.

Because… Selma's birthday wasn't even today.

Back when her mother and Selma were still close, her mom had once thrown Selma a birthday party. There had even been a photo, with the date written on the back as a keepsake. Elodie had come across it while sorting through her mother's belongings after her passing.

According to the old calendar, Selma's birthday wouldn't be until next month.

Yet here they were.

They'd picked today—today of all days, the day her family gathered to mourn her mother—to throw a party, launch fireworks, and celebrate?

What kind of people did that?

Reba, satisfied by Elodie's frozen expression, finally relaxed.

At last, she'd managed to strike a blow and come out on top.

"I just thought you deserved to know the truth, so you wouldn't be left in the dark. Mr. Silverstein is with Ms. Fielding, obviously," Reba said, pocketing her phone and smirking.

Elodie said nothing.

Her mind was a storm, swept up in the absurdity of it all.

The wind bit through her coat.

Elodie drew a slow breath, bracing herself to call Jarrod. She was prepared for him not to come. She'd already guessed how this would end; she'd steeled her heart against disappointment.

But Selma—Selma was twisting the knife, aiming right for the softest part of her and her grandmother's hearts.

On the anniversary of her mother's death, Selma had chosen to throw herself a lavish birthday party, complete with fireworks and laughter—deliberately creating a scene of joy and celebration.

It was a calculated move, meant to mock her mother's memory and flaunt the Thorne family's misfortune.

The malice was staggering.

She couldn't let it stand.

She needed to confront Jarrod—face to face. Did he even realize what today meant? If he knew, and still sided with Selma and her daughter… She couldn't bear that kind of betrayal.

Ring. Ring. Ring.

After a long series of busy tones, Jarrod finally answered.