How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 166

Jarrod was a cautious man. If the divorce paperwork wasn't finalized, he'd never let the news slip—

Because Jarrod simply wouldn't allow Sylvie to leave anyone with ammunition against her before she was securely in her new role.

When you truly love someone, you think of everything for them.

Ivan regarded him with a sly, teasing grin. "Mr. Silverstein, when the time comes, you'd better invite me to your wedding."

Jarrod's gaze lifted, but his expression barely changed.

Maurice chuckled, making sure the banter didn't die. "Absolutely. Wouldn't miss it for the world."

Elodie stood up.

She didn't want to watch this picture-perfect camaraderie any longer.

Esmeralda rose to follow her.

Elodie checked her watch; the dinner had about half an hour left.

That was all the time she had left to find Fergus.

"Esme, I'll check with the guest list at the front desk. Could you look around the other side of the hall?"

"Sure thing," Esmeralda replied.

Elodie approached the event staff, politely asking if they could tell her whether a guest named Fergus was in attendance tonight. The staff, equally polite, declined her request.

They said the guest list was confidential.

Elodie understood—they were in a difficult position.

After all, the dinner was hosted by the Jett family. Ivan was soon to be their son-in-law, and his word carried weight. If she could get the guest list from him, it would be much easier.

She hesitated.

But her uncle's illness loomed over her, urgent and pressing. In the end, she made her way back toward the ballroom.

She texted Ivan: [Could you meet me by the side hall for a moment?]

He didn't reply.

So she went to wait anyway.

Her temples throbbed; she massaged them, feeling the dull ache from today's radiation treatment. She'd thrown up twice, her immune system was shot, and she had a chill she couldn't shake.