How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 114

She didn't head to the ER until she'd smoked the last of her cigarette.

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After parking the car, Sylvie finally turned to Jarrod. "The way Mr. Harcourt was with her just now… It felt off. Did they have a fight?"

Jarrod kept his eyes on his phone, barely glancing up. "No idea."

That attitude… Could he be any colder?

But Sylvie just smiled, lips curling in satisfaction. She liked how Jarrod clearly couldn't care less about Elodie.

"Are you coming upstairs?" Sylvie smiled sweetly, dropping the subject.

Jarrod checked his watch. "I've got to get back to the office. I'll visit your mom another time."

She didn't push. As she got out of the car, she said, "Drive safe."

"Yeah. Go on up."

After Jarrod left, Sylvie headed upstairs. She found Selma reading and briefly mentioned Jarrod giving her a ride, plus the run-in with Elodie.

Selma turned a page and gave a short laugh. "Figures. Elodie turned out just like her useless mother—no talent, all stupidity. She can't even hold onto a man. She's no threat to you, Sylvie. Not even worth a second thought."

Sylvie paused. "Her mother?"

Selma set her book aside, unimpressed. "A brainless, two-faced woman. Flaunted her money, always pretending to be so noble and pure."

"She even sponsored me back in school—made sure everyone knew how ‘charitable' she was, like she was some kind of saint. Wanted everyone's admiration, all the men's attention."

Did she think she was some savior?

Selma frowned, but the irritation soon passed.

But times had changed.

Even Winifred's daughter couldn't hold a candle to hers now.

Sylvie didn't bother to comment.

After all, Elodie had never been worthy of being her rival.

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