Elodie was caught off guard by the question, but a flicker of understanding soon crossed her refined, cool features.
The old woman was listening in, right beside her.
Jarrod, naturally, knew how to play his part.
He had no real intention of sending Elodie to the hospital.
Elodie kept her eyes on the blueprints, her tone calm as she replied, “We’ll see about the timing.”
There was a brief silence on the other end, and then, in an unhurried voice, Jarrod said, “Alright, don’t forget to eat.”
With that, he ended the call abruptly, giving her no chance to respond.
Elodie, unsurprisingly, paid no attention to his token display of concern. “Don’t forget to eat”—it was nothing but playacting, a hollow gesture that meant nothing to either of them.
She set her phone aside and returned to her calculations.
Over at the hospital, the old woman scowled as Jarrod hung up after barely saying a word. “What’s the rush? Is someone chasing you with a stick?”
Jarrod didn’t look up from his laptop, just raised an eyebrow. “She hasn’t eaten yet. If I keep her on the phone, I’ll waste her time.”
The old woman was momentarily speechless. “You seem to know quite a bit.”
She paused, then pressed on, “Have you explained everything about the Warwick family to Elodie? Sorted it out?”
Jarrod didn’t answer directly, his fingers tapping lightly on the keyboard. His thin lips curled into a faint smile—if you could call it that.
The old woman’s irritation only grew at his evasive manner. “Don’t try to brush me off. You know damn well how Elodie treats you. I’m warning you, behave yourself out there. Don’t push your luck.”
She hesitated, then grew more serious. “You haven’t crossed any lines, have you? That Fielding family girl—if you don’t handle things properly, don’t blame me if I ask her to leave someday.”
Only then did Jarrod finally pause, a smile playing on his lips but with no compromise in his eyes. “Grandma, you know me. I never regret what I set out to do.”
And he never backed down easily.
Fortunately, everything was unfolding as Elodie had predicted.
She now had a much clearer vision for the project’s direction.
Mr. Hay wanted them to stay for lunch, but Alexander had already booked a restaurant. Besides, Elodie needed to discuss the detailed plans with him, so they politely declined.
Mr. Hay escorted them downstairs.
On the way, he caught sight of a nearby office building, currently undergoing a high-end renovation, and couldn’t help remarking, “I just got back from a work trip to Sunspire this morning. Last night, at the tech expo, I ran into Mr. Silverstein from The Silverstein Group—he was showing Ms. Fielding around, introducing her to promising tech talent.”
Elodie didn’t even look up.
Alexander, however, narrowed his eyes with interest. “Oh?”
Neural Intelligence was just around the corner, and it had become the talk of the industry lately—Mr. Hay was no exception. He continued, more openly now, “Neural Intelligence made quite a splash with their launch. Since their offices are so close, we see their building every day—can’t miss Mr. Silverstein’s car out front. He’s really hands-on. I guess he doesn’t want Ms. Fielding to shoulder all the burden. Yesterday, I saw him, injured and all, personally accompanying Ms. Fielding to Sunspire for the expo, scouting for talent together.”
Comments
The readers' comments on the novel: How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue