How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 283

She picked a number at random.

She had no idea who she’d be paired with.

For a brief moment, the lively chatter around her seemed to pause, just for a couple of seconds, before the room erupted in noise again.

Elodie had the distinct sense that someone was standing in front of her.

The person didn’t say a word.

But Elodie caught a faint, familiar scent—cool and crisp—that made her freeze mid-movement.

She hesitated, and as she realized who it probably was, a silent frown creased her brow.

Just then, Jarrod’s voice sounded above her. “Lost in thought?”

Elodie couldn’t understand why he’d come over, so she replied, “Mr. Silverstein could have refused, you know.”

“Come on, it’s just for fun. It’s Mr. Harcourt’s celebration—playing along won’t hurt.” His tone was unhurried, almost amused.

She couldn’t see his face, but there was nothing she could say in response; he had a point.

If she made too much of a fuss, it would just seem petty—especially since hardly anyone here knew the real story between them.

If she acted strange now, it would only invite suspicion.

Everyone in Sylvie’s group already knew Elodie had drawn Jarrod’s number.

When Naylor came over, curiosity got the better of him. “Ms. Fielding, aren’t you bothered that Elodie picked Mr. Silverstein?”

Sylvie’s expression didn’t change; she answered smoothly, “There’s nothing to be bothered about.”

“I was the one who told Jarrod to go over. Otherwise, Elodie would’ve been standing there alone. That would have been awkward.”

Naylor nodded, finally understanding. That made sense.

If Jarrod’s girlfriend hadn’t given her blessing herself, he probably wouldn’t have agreed to this.

No doubt about it: a woman who knows she’s loved is always confident.

Watts, who had just returned from a phone call, noticed the scene as well.

He looked puzzled. “So, Mr. Silverstein and Ms. Thorne know each other?”

The food she was supposed to feed was fruit.

The game was meant to be a playful, intimate icebreaker for the engaged couple and a few other hopeful pairs at the party.

But against all odds, she’d drawn Jarrod’s number.

After several failed attempts, Elodie gave up on worrying about whether she was playing along properly. She reached up, ready to remove her blindfold and bow out.

“Getting impatient, aren’t we?” Jarrod’s voice came from above, casual, with the faintest trace of a laugh.

Elodie frowned.

He’d probably bent down a bit to help her out, his tone light. “You really can’t guess how tall I am? Still can’t find me?”

She could feel him edging closer, his presence unmistakable.

Beneath the blindfold, her eyebrows drew together and she almost instinctively stepped back.

But his warm hand caught her wrist, pulling her easily back toward him.

“Elodie, are you avoiding me?”