Alexander’s words caught everyone off guard.
The gentle, sincere look on Sylvie’s face faded, if only a little.
For a moment, she wondered if she’d misheard him.
But Jarrod, standing to the side, was utterly unmoved. He raised his eyes with a lazy indifference, glanced at Elodie, and the depths of his gaze remained calm, an almost imperceptible hint of a smile tracing his lips.
Elodie, too, showed no reaction. Not a flicker of emotion crossed her face at Alexander’s remark.
Jarrod’s gaze lingered for a moment, then drifted away, a quiet amusement glinting in his eyes as if he’d thought of something.
Sylvie pressed her lips together, then spoke, her tone composed and unbothered. “Mr. Sterling, I know this is a difficult request for you.”
She honestly hadn’t expected Alexander to be so unwilling to approach the professor about this, nor for him to come up with such an outlandish excuse.
Bringing Elodie into this just to subtly decline her request?
After a short pause, she replied, magnanimous and not the least bit offended, “I’m being perfectly sincere. I’ll keep trying to get into the professor’s graduate program, so please, Mr. Sterling, let’s not joke about this.”
Her research was firmly rooted in this field. Aside from Alexander—who was one of the rare few with an obvious head start—her own qualifications were near the top of the list.
Even if Elodie had learned a great deal from Alexander, it still wasn’t enough to meet the standards of her thesis. In fact, Elodie was miles behind.
Jarrod didn’t offer any opinion, nor did Alexander’s words seem to surprise him. He simply said, unhurried, “It’s all right, Mr. Sterling. Don’t trouble yourself. We can talk about it later.”
Alexander forced a smile that never reached his eyes, inwardly exasperated.
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The readers' comments on the novel: How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue
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