How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 563

The mood in the room shifted in an instant.

Sylvie sat there, stunned, unable to speak for several long moments.

She truly hadn’t expected this—such unanimous agreement…

Which could only mean…

What Mr. Ferguson had written yesterday wasn’t just his personal opinion. It must have come from—

Her vision swam, a wave of dizziness washing over her. Still, she clenched her teeth so hard her jaw ached, her voice trembling despite her efforts to sound steady. “None of us here are direct witnesses. No one can speak with certainty. Your so-called suspicions are baseless. The developer of U.N2 isn’t even present. Who could possibly speak for them? I refuse to accept this kind of slander.”

But even as she spoke, a cold panic crept through her chest, growing steadily, uncontrollably.

Almost involuntarily, her gaze drifted toward Jarrod, sitting among the audience.

He sat with his legs crossed, far enough away that she couldn’t make out his expression. It was as though a mist veiled his face—she could never really read him.

Yet she believed… if things truly went wrong today, Jarrod would help her. He always had, every single time.

But now, with the mention of the U.N2 developer, the entire hall was buzzing with agitation.

Everyone understood—if this accusation proved true, the consequences would be catastrophic.

Grady, clearly rattled, went pale. “You can’t just throw accusations around without proof! Are we not here to discuss your own questionable dealings with Ms. Fielding? What is this—dodging the issue? Deflecting? Slandering someone on the spot?”

Elodie met his gaze directly, her eyes finally settling on Sylvie. “And what if… she’s actually here?”

The words cut through the chaos—calm, almost eerily so, sending a chill through everyone present.

Watts whipped his head toward her, his gaze suddenly sharp and intense.

Even Patricia frowned, a sense of unease settling over her. The situation was spiraling out of control—no one could read where this was headed.

Elodie’s quiet statement was like tossing a lit match into a room full of gasoline.

Sylvie jolted in her seat, gripped by a sudden, sickening fear.

Before she could react, Charlie turned to Elodie. “At this point, we’re not just talking about individuals—there are national secrets involved. This is serious. If you have nothing to hide, reveal yourself and let’s get to the bottom of this.”

The implication was clear as a bell.

Maurice and the others swung their heads toward Elodie, and as the possibility dawned on them, someone nearly gasped, “It’s… it’s her…”

Patricia’s expression darkened, realization settling in as her eyes narrowed.

Klein didn’t hesitate any longer. He strode up to the stage, his face grave, locking eyes with Sylvie.

“You want an answer? Fine. Then let me make it official right here. Five years ago, the U.N2 project’s developer—whose identity has been protected as a matter of national security…”

He paused for a heartbeat.

“Is standing right in front of you. It’s Elodie.”