How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 268

Elodie had just finished with the fingerprint scan.

When the clerk asked for confirmation, she lifted her head, her eyes calm and clear. “Yes, I’m doing this of my own free will.”

Jarrod glanced sideways at her, taking in the way her expression seemed almost icily detached. She had never looked so resolute, nor so at ease.

There was something urgent about her demeanor too—a subtle, restless energy that he couldn’t quite ignore.

His gaze lingered on her face for a moment before he finally looked away, nodding in silence.

The clerk noted the lack of any outburst or flare of emotion between them. No bickering, no raised voices, not even the flush of anger. It was as if two strangers had shown up to untangle a tiresome matter.

Once the fingerprint and ID information were entered into the system, the clerk pressed the steel stamp down onto the paperwork.

At that sharp, final sound, Elodie felt something tremble inside her chest—not too heavy, not too light, but unmistakable.

Snatches of her marriage—every good moment, every bitter one—flashed through her mind in a dizzying montage, each memory leaving its mark as if branded on her heart. The memories churned up a storm within her.

Where she once longed for Jarrod’s love, she now yearned to be free of the endless, exhausting wait. She wanted to escape the prison she’d built around herself.

Every stage of their relationship had taken something from her—her time, her hope, her heart.

Only when the certificate confirming the end of their marriage was finally in her hands did Elodie feel the frantic pounding in her chest begin to settle.

She didn’t look at Jarrod again. She wasn’t interested in his reaction or his face—whether he was relieved or regretful didn’t matter to her anymore.

She didn’t explain or answer further. Of course, Jarrod’s question was understandable—her uncle had been hospitalized for a while and was scheduled for surgery soon, a liver resection and transplant. It was only natural he’d assume the form was related.

Elodie gathered her things, turned, and walked out with barely a backward glance.

Jarrod watched her go, and just as she reached the door, she paused. Looking down at the certificate in her hand, the frosty mask on her face seemed to melt away, replaced by the faintest hint of a smile.

Jarrod caught that fleeting expression perfectly. His eyes were deep and unreadable, betraying no emotion at all.

He was still standing there when Albin approached. “Mr. Silverstein, do you want to walk Ms. Thorne out? She seemed a little off today.”

“That won’t be necessary.” He sounded utterly disinterested in the idea of giving his ex-wife a ride.