How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 297

When Elodie opened the door, she found a staff member from the resort standing in the hallway, dressed in the crisp uniform of the hotel.

The woman greeted her with a friendly smile. “Ms. Thorne, are you satisfied with your room? If you’d like, there are suites with even better views on this floor. Would you like me to help you switch?”

Elodie glanced back at her suite. The resort was top-tier, and the room she’d been given was already one of the best options available.

She shook her head. “No, thank you. This one’s perfect.”

The staff member hesitated, as if there was something more she wanted to say, but in the end just smiled and nodded. “Of course, Ms. Thorne. If you need anything at all, please don’t hesitate to call.”

Elodie didn’t give it much thought.

She closed the door and went back to unpacking her clothes.

The celebration dinner tonight wasn’t particularly formal—just a chance for everyone to unwind after a busy stretch. She was grateful for a low-key evening. The past few weeks had been non-stop, and fatigue seemed to cling to her bones.

The resort had every imaginable amenity—indoor pools, spas, even natural hot springs. She’d packed a swimsuit specifically for a bit of downtime, hoping to sneak in a soak or two.

She finished unpacking. It was just after five.

She needed to change before heading over to the main hall.

Ding—

Her phone buzzed twice.

Elodie picked it up and checked the screen.

A message from her grandmother popped up.

—[Sweetheart, I visited the new house today. It’s already looking so different! From what I can see, if they keep up the pace, another two or three months and it should be finished.]

Attached were several photos.

Even without opening them fully, Elodie could tell they were panoramic shots of the living room on the first floor. The transformation was drastic—almost unrecognizable.

The place was still in the midst of structural work. Judging by the style of the renovations, it was a complete overhaul—nothing left of what she had once painstakingly designed.