How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 94

The rehabilitation center was just behind the outpatient wing, only a short walk away.

When Elodie arrived, she paid another $20,000 in one go.

No sooner had she signed the paperwork than the nurse in charge asked, "Ms. Thorne, would you mind moving Emile to a different room?"

Elodie was taken aback. "Move him?"

The nurse quickly explained, "It's like this—someone has expressed interest in your uncle's room. They'd like to discuss swapping with you, and they're willing to accommodate any reasonable requests you might have."

This was a private hospital, after all. Special requests were often handled through negotiation.

Elodie frowned. "Please tell them we're not interested."

These past few years, her uncle's medical bills had been no small burden. Her grandmother's hotel was barely scraping by, so Elodie had been making up the difference herself. Most of her salary from PR work went straight to the hospital.

She hadn't chosen the most luxurious room for her uncle, but it had plenty of sunlight, good ventilation, and a pleasant view. Most importantly, he was comfortable there.

There was no way she'd agree to a switch.

The nurse looked awkward for a moment.

Just as she was about to say something else, she glanced over Elodie's shoulder and suddenly said, "Mr. Silverstein, this is the relative of the patient in room 206. Would you like to talk directly?"

Elodie's heart nearly stopped.

She turned and saw, to her surprise—

Sylvie, arm in arm with Selma, looked at Elodie without the slightest hint of surprise.

And, of course, beside them stood Jarrod—aloof, impeccably dressed, his dark gaze unreadable.

Elodie's spirits plummeted.

This didn't bode well.

Sylvie was the first to speak, turning to Selma. "Mom, why don't you go inside and rest for a bit?"

Selma nodded, her eyes sweeping over Elodie. Just before stepping into the room, she said, "Oh, it's you. Well then, Jarrod and Sylvie can talk things over with you."

Elodie's expression darkened.