How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 531

Most of her panic was shoved to the back of her mind, buried by instinct.

“No wonder he hasn’t responded to me yet. Is it that hard to handle?”

Maurice let out a low hiss before finally answering, “Shutting everyone up isn’t easy, you know that. This tournament means everything. If you take one of the top three spots, you’re basically halfway into the national team. Of course he’s running himself ragged for you. And besides…”

He paused, then continued, “You know as well as I do—things haven’t exactly been going well for you or your family lately. The Silverstein family already has their doubts. If you miss this chance at the tournament, there may not be another one. But if you make the national team, who’s going to question you then?”

Sylvie was silent for a long moment, lost in thought.

Truth was, she’d already been uneasy when Jarrod hadn’t gotten back to her. Her mind refused to settle, the anxiety pressing in at every moment, impossible to ignore.

Now, with Maurice’s words, at least she had some confirmation.

She felt… a little more at ease.

“I get it. I caused the mess, and now he has to run around cleaning it up for me.” Sylvie’s expression darkened. If Lucinda’s side ever found out about this, things would only get uglier.

Jarrod would probably be overwhelmed too.

“Exactly. So just focus and don’t let Jarrod down,” Maurice said, his tone casual and light, a half-hearted attempt at comfort.

“Alright. You get some rest. Let’s grab dinner sometime,” Sylvie said, rubbing her brow. She couldn’t quite tell what she was feeling—somewhere between relief and a knot in her throat.

“No problem,” Maurice replied easily, and hung up soon after.

His attitude toward her hadn’t changed in the slightest.

Only then did Sylvie finally allow herself a small sigh of relief.

Maurice was close to Jarrod—not one of those office lackeys who switched loyalties with the wind, always ready to curry favor with Elodie. Maurice understood Jarrod’s heart, and by extension, hers.

So what others thought didn’t matter.

As for being pushed out… Sylvie sat in the parked car for a long time, staring at the office building ahead. Her hands tightened on the steering wheel, knuckles turning white.

Maurice was right.