The old woman hesitated for a while, her lips working as if searching for the right words.
At last, her voice dropped to a gentle firmness. “Sweetheart, don’t you worry. I won’t let anyone mistreat you. If you’re ever upset or troubled, just come to me—Grandma will always help you sort it out. As far as the Silverstein family is concerned, you are our one and only granddaughter-in-law.”
Elodie understood the message behind those words.
Grandma was trying to reassure her, but she was also making her stance clear.
Some things simply couldn’t be discussed outright.
Lowering her eyes, Elodie’s gaze remained soft and composed. “Thank you, Grandma.”
Because of the agreement between her and Jarrod, she couldn’t explain the divorce to Grandma. She could only give vague replies.
At the very least, she’d promised Jarrod to play by these rules—and she intended to keep her word.
Grandma asked if she was still at the hospital.
Elodie answered honestly—she’d been there that morning.
Only then did Grandma sound relieved.
After she hung up, Elodie pressed her fingers to her brow.
She had no idea what Jarrod would tell Grandma about Sylvie, but the old woman was sharp. Now that she’d sensed Sylvie’s presence, she’d definitely have someone look into it.
Sooner or later, she would find out just how far Jarrod had gone for Sylvie.
Not only did Sylvie have free rein at Silverstein Group, but he was also helping her set up Neural Intelligence.
With all that, how could their relationships possibly be simple?
Still, that was Jarrod’s problem to solve.
Given how protective he was of Sylvie, he’d surely find a way to handle it.
Elodie let the matter drop.
Sylvie had been at the hospital all day, but must have stepped out for a while. Still, Elodie couldn’t quite figure out how the hospital ended up calling her number.
She frowned, glancing at her phone.
For years, this number had been the one she used to handle all of Jarrod’s day-to-day affairs. Even now, the hospital still called her first.
She thought about it for a moment, then decided—she’d change her number tomorrow.
Consider it the start of a new chapter.
That evening, Elodie spoke with her doctor, confirming the schedule for her preoperative chemotherapy—the first round was set for tomorrow. As luck would have it, there was only an opening in the morning.
She discussed it with her doctor and rescheduled for the earliest slot.
Before bed, Elodie gathered all the documents she’d need for her divorce appointment the next morning, checking and double-checking to make sure nothing was missing.
Only then did she allow herself to unwind—showering, and finally, drifting off to sleep.
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