How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 26

Elodie turned and met Jarrod's somber gaze. His long fingers were pinching a folded report, and a knot tightened in her chest. Without thinking, she snatched it from his hand.

"You read it?" she demanded.

Jarrod's eyes lingered on her pale face. "Why are you so nervous?"

He explained, calm as ever, "I saw it fall out of your pocket when I walked in. Picked it up, but didn't look at it."

Elodie breathed a shallow sigh of relief, regaining her composure. "You're reading too much into it, Mr. Silverstein."

Jarrod studied her for a moment. "You've been calling me ‘Mr. Silverstein' a lot lately, Elodie."

She tucked the report back into her purse. "Was there something you needed?"

She didn't bother explaining; Sylvie had brought this up just the other day, after all. And besides, they were getting divorced—calling him Mr. Silverstein was more appropriate now.

"Are you feeling alright?" Jarrod's cold gaze swept over her, an unusual hint of concern in his voice.

But Elodie knew better. His concern wasn't real. She'd just witnessed how anxious he'd been over Sylvie catching a simple cold. His polite inquiry was just that—politeness, nothing more.

It was Jarrod's way: always courteous, never truly invested. There was a time when she'd been foolish enough to be moved by that façade.

"It's nothing serious. I was just visiting my uncle," she answered coolly, out of courtesy.

"Sylvie's sick," Jarrod said abruptly.

Elodie glanced at him, waiting for him to continue.

His expression was unreadable, the ease with which he discussed his mistress with his wife almost laughable.

"She went to see Alexander at VistaLink Technologies the other day. He kept her waiting over an hour, and she caught a chill." He took out a pack of cigarettes, tapped one out, but after a moment's pause, slid it back in.

"What's your point, Mr. Silverstein?" Elodie met his eyes, unflinching.

Did he think Sylvie got sick because of something she'd said to Alexander?

Jarrod's lips curled with faint irony. "Why were you at VistaLink Technologies that day?"

So she'd guessed right. He was only here to demand an explanation—he couldn't care less why she was in the hospital.

Jarrod noticed. He'd felt her distance ever since that day.

He told himself everything had limits. If he gave her space, she'd come to her senses.

He smirked slightly. "Since you're at VistaLink Technologies now, whether you're an assistant or whatever else, perhaps you could offer some advice. In life and work, it pays to be diplomatic—learning to deal with people smoothly is a necessary skill for any leader."

Elodie's eyes narrowed.

So that was it—he was standing up for Sylvie.

He was upset Sylvie hadn't been treated with the importance he thought she deserved. Outwardly, he was criticizing Alexander's lack of courtesy, but in truth, he was blaming Elodie for making things difficult for Sylvie, telling her to "know her place."

Elodie had no taste for pointless arguments, but she resented being accused of things she hadn't done.

She looked up. "Did it ever occur to you that maybe she just isn't qualified?"

No matter how talented Sylvie might be, she hadn't proven herself yet. Did Jarrod really think Alexander was someone she could just summon at will?

Jarrod's brow furrowed, his reply cold and final. "With me behind her, she's qualified."