How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 489

Elodie considered it for a moment. “Mr. Ferguson has always been unpredictable. If he already promised Jarrod he’d help, I doubt he’d go back on his word.”

“It doesn’t really matter. Personal growth is what counts. Neural Intelligence can’t rely on Mr. Ferguson forever—he’s just a temporary headline.” Alexander cut straight to the point, then got up and tapped Elodie’s desk. “Back to work. Let’s not dwell on it.”

—

The next day.

Sylvie and Selma made a decision: the art exhibition would be moved up.

Sylvie hadn’t been in the best mood lately. What happened with Elodie felt like someone had carved a wound into her chest—she just couldn’t shake it off.

Selma had weighed things carefully before speaking to her. “The public is fixated on Elodie right now. You need to polish your image, win back some of the goodwill she’s cost you.”

Sylvie understood exactly what Selma meant.

At this critical moment, she needed a boost.

“Besides,” Selma added, frowning, “an art exhibition will attract plenty of people who don’t know the full story—helping us build momentum. If we wait much longer, who knows what might happen.”

Especially since Elodie was unpredictable—who could say what she’d pull next?

Better to seize the opportunity now.

Sylvie didn’t object. “We should talk to the Barnes family about hosting it at their art museum.”

A regular venue just wouldn’t have the same impact.

Patricia’s gallery was by far the best option.

So Sylvie reached out again to the Barnes family’s museum.

They gave her a clear answer about the rental fee.

Later that morning, Sylvie arranged to have lunch with Jarrod.

At least around him, she wanted to keep her pride and independence. She didn’t want to seem like she needed his help for every little thing.

Jarrod seemed to understand. “Isn’t your company’s profit-sharing coming up soon?”

Sylvie’s smile softened. “Almost. So, I’m fine.”

Truthfully, money was a little tight, especially after the recent copyright dispute, but she wasn’t about to admit it. She’d manage—this was her problem to solve.

Jarrod seemed to get it. He leaned back in his chair. “That’s good. Your mom hasn’t officially started working with any galleries since she came back, has she? With her talent, if she partnered with a few institutions, her quarterly income would be impressive.”

“True. We haven’t explored that yet.” Sylvie was pleasantly surprised.

Jarrod nodded thoughtfully. “Leave it to me.”

Sylvie looked at Jarrod—at his clear, handsome features—and couldn’t help but smile.