How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 362

Elodie truly didn’t understand. Her mind was already a tangled mess from everything that had happened, and when she saw him standing there, her eyes flickered with both suspicion and confusion.

“What are you doing here?”

Jarrod finally glanced, unhurried, at the surgical light glowing overhead.

“Why? Am I not allowed to be here?” His reply was calm, as if he hadn’t caught the implication in her tone at all.

Elodie frowned. The rhythm of her already restless heart was thrown off even more by his nonchalance. “Mr. Silverstein, you know perfectly well what I mean.”

She had no patience for his games.

Only then did Jarrod really look at her, his gaze lingering as if he were properly observing her for the first time in ages. He noted, in that brief study, how much thinner she’d become—her jaw sharper, cheekbones more defined, the tension in her face unmistakable.

He let his eyes rest on her for a second longer before answering, “I came to keep you company.”

Elodie’s frown deepened. “And how did you even know my uncle had surgery today?”

Jarrod’s tone was almost lazy. “Your grandmother saw you post a picture of the hospital entrance on your social feed. She couldn’t reach you, so she asked me to check in.”

At this, Elodie’s brows knit together. Well, that at least made his presence here make sense.

She hadn’t expected that connection.

“Tell your grandmother I’m fine, there’s no need to worry. I won’t take up any more of your time, Mr. Silverstein.” Her words were polite, but her voice was ice-cold.

Jarrod tilted his head, studying her for a long moment. His eyes were clear, his tone level. “Elodie, when are you going to stop pretending you’re fine?”

He said it evenly, like a bystander making a simple observation. There was hardly any concern in his voice—just the sense that he found her stubbornness unnecessary.

Elodie had no energy to argue with him today.

She didn’t answer, just moved to a chair farther down the row.

A space opened up between them—an invisible wall.