How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 55

"Is that so?" Alexander's gaze lingered on Maurice, his tone layered with meaning. "Sounds like you have a lot of respect for the U.N2's creator."

Maurice gave a wry smile. "Who wouldn't admire someone as brilliant as Mr. Sterling?"

His words were genuine—he really did look up to Sterling. But he was also angling for future opportunities; VistaLink Technologies was fast becoming the industry's rising star. His father had always told him: build a good relationship with Alexander, and you can't lose.

Elodie stayed silent, calm and collected from beginning to end.

Ambition and the pursuit of profit—those were basic human instincts.

She reached for a napkin, only to be caught off guard when another hand, long-fingered and warm, brushed against hers across the table. The pads of Jarrod's fingers accidentally grazed hers, holding them for a split second.

A jolt ran through her. Elodie looked up in surprise.

Jarrod was watching her, expression steady. Even as he met the slight quiver in her eyes, his face remained composed. As if he hadn't noticed her discomfort, he simply withdrew his hand, unhurried.

Elodie pulled her own hand back, but the sensation lingered—scalding, tingling, and annoyingly persistent.

Her brows drew together.

Jarrod had spent the whole evening keeping his distance, careful not to touch her. So how did they just happen to brush hands now? Did he think she'd done it on purpose?

Elodie frowned to herself, quietly troubled.

No one else seemed to notice the little incident.

Just then, Sylvie spoke up, her voice steady and assured. "I've always admired Mr. Sterling. The U.N2 project is exactly why I chose this field. I actually tried to join his team before, hoping to learn from him firsthand. But I'm confident—I'll still have chances to collaborate with him in the future."

That confidence was well-earned—her abilities spoke for themselves.

Someday, she'd lead a team to develop something that could rival U.N2.

This time, Alexander couldn't help but chuckle. "Well, I wish you all the best, Ms. Fielding. May all your ambitions come true."

Just like that, Freya forgot what she'd been about to say, unable to help herself as she scooted closer to Elodie.

She just loved being near Elodie—she was soft, warm, and kind.

Why couldn't Elodie be her real sister?

Across the table, Octavia's attention snapped to Elodie, watching her serve Freya pastries and pour juice. Octavia's brows knitted together as she glared at Elodie, clearly displeased.

Elodie noticed but didn't return her gaze.

Octavia's mood soured instantly. What was going on? Elodie never forgot to look after her. Why hadn't she paid her any attention tonight?

After Maurice finished encouraging Sylvie, he turned deliberately toward Elodie, his tone casual. "Ms. Thorne, we're out of roast—could you put on another tray? And bring over that bottle of wine, would you?"

The room fell suddenly, noticeably quiet.