How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 200

The faint, aggressive scent of cedar clung to the man.

Elodie instinctively frowned, glancing down at Jarrod's hand wrapped around her wrist.

She was just about to insist she could take care of it herself.

But Jarrod, sensing her reaction, brushed it off with a cool, "Keep your eyes on the ball, not on me."

Elodie simply lowered her gaze, letting Jarrod guide her hand. With a swift, steady swing, he sent the ball sailing—

—straight into the hole with impressive precision.

Elodie quickly pulled away from his reach, her expression frosty as she turned on her heel and walked back.

Jarrod watched her retreat, picking up immediately on her aloofness.

Maurice, meanwhile, was the first to notice Jarrod helping Elodie with her swing. He clicked his tongue in surprise and shot Sylvie a look.

Sylvie, composed as ever, examined the ball's position before commenting without a flicker of emotion, "Well, Jarrod, you lost. Maurice and I scored more."

Jarrod slipped his hand casually into his pocket, unruffled. "Fine. I concede."

Maurice gave him a sly, knowing smile. "You only lost because you were held back… And honestly, you could beat both of us with your eyes closed. You obviously let Sylvie win just to keep her happy."

Sylvie arched an eyebrow and gave Jarrod a silent, amused smile.

Maurice then turned to Elodie and sighed, "Looks like you're just no match for Sylvie."

His tone carried a double meaning.

On the surface, it sounded like he was talking about golf. But the implication ran much deeper.

Mr. Patrick, oblivious to the undercurrents, waved a hand dismissively. "It's just a friendly game. No need to take it so seriously. None of us are pros anyway. The point is to have fun."

Maurice chuckled and nodded in agreement. "You're right."

Elodie had no interest in sparring with Maurice over his veiled jab.

She knew all too well that if she took offense, they'd just accuse her of being a sore loser.

Luckily, she didn't care in the slightest.

Just then, her phone buzzed. Alexander's message flashed on the screen: *Almost there*. She relaxed a little, lifting her glass for a sip of water.