How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 97

Elodie's eyes flickered, her fingers unconsciously tightening around her fork.

Octavia didn't miss that fleeting reaction. Her smile widened as she nudged her phone toward Jarrod, determined to get an answer. "So, do you like it or not, big brother?"

Jarrod's eyes, cold and unreadable, stayed fixed on the screen. His expression barely shifted. He shot Octavia a warning look.

Octavia shrank back a little, quickly withdrawing her phone. She knew Jarrod and Elodie's situation wasn't public yet; she'd only wanted to see how Elodie would react, not to actually upset her brother.

"What's going on?" their grandmother asked, sensing the tension at the table.

"It's nothing, Grandma," Octavia said brightly, scooting closer. "I just showed Jarrod something he really likes."

Grandma didn't press, patting Octavia's head before turning her attention back to her meal.

Elodie kept her head down, her face carefully blank. She looked numb, as if she were just an outsider watching a love story everyone else envied.

When Jarrod finished eating, he set down his fork and headed upstairs.

Grandma scowled in annoyance. "He disappears the moment he finishes. Elodie, go call him down."

Elodie had been searching for an excuse to leave, and Grandma's words gave her one—at least for now. She went upstairs and knocked on the door.

No answer.

She pushed it open and stepped inside, just as Jarrod walked out of the bathroom.

He'd just showered; his dark hair was still damp, and he wore casual loungewear that emphasized his broad shoulders and trim waist. His phone was in hand, busy with a chat.

Elodie froze, a flurry of unwelcome thoughts flashing through her mind.

Octavia had shown him a racy photo of Sylvie, and Jarrod had immediately excused himself to shower. Now, seeing him still chatting—if it was Sylvie sending him even more personal pictures…

The timing made his shower seem suspicious.

Grandma had been planning this for a while. Neither Jarrod nor Elodie would agree to a hospital visit, so she figured bringing the doctor home was the next best thing. Whether there was a problem or not, a bit of care couldn't hurt. Partly, she was thinking of future grandchildren; partly, she'd noticed how thin Elodie had become and was genuinely worried about her health.

"Come on, Jarrod, you first!" Grandma insisted, practically dragging him to sit before Dr. MacLeod.

Jarrod glanced at Grandma, catching her meaning. "If you want to know whether I'm healthy, you can ask Elodie."

Elodie stiffened, caught between embarrassment and awkwardness at his remark.

She couldn't deny it—Jarrod was in perfect health. Even with three years of emotional distance between them, in that one area, he had never disappointed her.

"You cheeky boy! Can't you be a little more reserved?" Grandma scolded, giving him a good-natured smack on the back. "Sit still!"

Jarrod obeyed.

Dr. MacLeod checked his pulse, and after a long moment, smiled. "Strong pulse, excellent vitality—he's in perfect health, in every respect."