How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 446

Elodie’s emotions were a tangled mess she couldn’t begin to describe.

She’d never wanted her past with Jarrod to become public. The last thing she needed was more complications, but now, with her grandmother unaware of their divorce—and bound by the terms of the agreement—Elodie couldn’t even explain the truth. With that thin veil now ripped away, she and Jarrod were bound to become the center of attention.

That was the clever cruelty of Jarrod’s divorce agreement. Whichever way she turned, she was trapped.

She couldn’t even clarify that they were divorced.

“Everyone, please turn off your phones,” Maurice cut in, quick to react. He’d thought of the influencers and minor celebrities he’d invited today and wasted no time turning to them. “Let’s not make any wild guesses about what just happened. It’s all a misunderstanding.”

He hurried off to try and contain the chaos. After all, it involved Jarrod, and the last thing he wanted was a public spectacle.

But it was already too late.

A young woman, more socialite than friend, hesitated before speaking up. “I didn’t manage to end my livestream in time… I think it all went out live.”

Maurice’s brow furrowed. If it was streamed, then there was a good chance clips were already circulating online.

Sylvie realized it, too, and her expression soured further.

The matriarch swept the room with a steely gaze. Her voice was calm but brooked no dissent. “In that case, to avoid any further misunderstandings, we won’t keep Ms. Fielding here any longer. Please, see yourself out.”

She might as well have put up a neon sign: Sylvie was being dismissed.

No one missed the way the old lady shielded Elodie. And while she called it all a “misunderstanding,” everyone heard the word “mistress” just moments ago. It was clear who didn’t belong, who lacked any claim to legitimacy.

At this point, there was no need for anyone to spell it out. Both families had their dignity to consider.

One thing was certain: Sylvie would never win the Silversteins’ favor.

“Maurice, see Sylvie home,” Jarrod said at last, his tone unreadable.

Maurice understood; the longer this dragged on, the worse it could get.

Sylvie said nothing, her fists clenched tight. As she left, she shot Jarrod a long, searching look. She trusted him to fix this mess—but then her gaze slid to Elodie.