How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 744

Elodie had just taken her seat at the dining table when she saw Jarrod’s friend request pop up on her phone.

Emile was ladling soup into her bowl.

“It’s seafood chowder tonight—extra oysters, just for you. You need to keep your strength up before the surgery. No matter how small the procedure, it’ll take a toll on your body. Nutrition is important.” Emile, who’d never married, had always treated Elodie like his own child.

Now that Elodie was facing cancer, he understood all too well what illness felt like. He’d been through it himself, and it hadn’t been easy—let alone for someone as delicate as Elodie.

“Uncle, I can do it myself, really.” Elodie tore her eyes from the phone and quickly reached for the bowl Emile was handing her.

“Mr. Silverstein messaged you?” Emile had noticed her checking her phone.

As for Jarrod, he couldn’t say he disliked the man; in fact, he rather admired him.

Setting emotions aside, Jarrod was, in his eyes, the standout among his generation. There was nothing to fault.

Elodie just smiled softly, not saying much.

Emile set aside another bowl for Rosemary, who hadn’t returned from her walk yet, and said gently, “Actually, I couldn’t sleep last night. I stepped out on the balcony for some air, and saw Mr. Silverstein’s car parked down the street. He didn’t leave—not all night. When I got up early this morning, he was still there. Only left a little while ago.”

What else could it be?

He kept vigil for her the whole night.

There was a quiet ache to it—not the kind that needed drama or tears.

Emile imagined Jarrod must be struggling with Elodie’s illness, too.

Elodie, unaware of any of this, checked the time stamp on Jarrod’s message.

Six thirty in the morning.

He hadn’t said a word about being outside.

Emile glanced at Elodie, who was now lost in thought, eyes fixed on her phone. He decided not to interrupt her.

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