How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 585

She was herself first and foremost; everything else was merely icing on the cake.

She couldn’t fault the girl she’d once been, lost and fumbling in the fog—everyone has their flaws. All she felt now was gratitude that she’d chosen to change, to become the woman she was today.

And she liked who she was now.

Sylvie understood perfectly the unyielding look on Elodie’s face, and she knew exactly why—after all, she’d been part of it, too.

But still...

“Elodie, you’re taking it out on me. Can’t we keep things separate?” Sylvie’s breath was unsteady, hoping Elodie would treat the past like some ancient grudge, best left behind.

Elodie’s eyes were cold as winter steel as she looked at her. “Am I not keeping things separate? For what you did at the competition, you belong in jail. Congratulations, Ms. Fielding.”

She didn’t spare a glance for Sylvie’s face, which had gone stark white in the blink of an eye.

Turning on her heel, Elodie walked away.

Real fear gripped Sylvie now. On instinct, she reached out, desperate to catch Elodie’s hand.

But Elodie didn’t let her get close; before Sylvie could touch her, Elodie yanked her arm away with a sharp, forceful motion.

Sylvie lost her balance, stumbling gracelessly and nearly falling.

Elodie looked down at her from above, icy and detached. “You want my forgiveness? You’re not even close to deserving it.”

A roaring filled Sylvie’s ears as everyone around turned to stare.

Scornful, mocking, contemptuous.

It had never been like this before.

The humiliation was enough to drive her mad; her eyes rimmed red with fury as she glared at Elodie’s retreating back.

As Elodie stepped out of the lobby, she nearly collided with Patricia, who had just gotten out of her car.

Patricia waved with a sunny smile. “Heading out, are we?”

Elodie slowed her stride, glancing over. “Miss Aldridge, what brings you here?”

Patricia nodded toward the street nearby. “I was just out for a walk and figured I’d stop by. Wanted to see if you’d like to join me for dinner—my friends are all curious about you. You’ve got quite a few fans, you know, after those impressive results.”

She definitely didn’t want anyone to see her looking this wretched and humiliated.

Without a word, she turned to leave.

Patricia’s voice drifted over, light but firm. “Hold on.”

Sylvie clenched her fists, her face drained of all color, despair pressing down on her until she couldn’t muster any defense.

Slowly, she turned back.

Patricia looked her up and down, then offered a wry smile. “I’ve got nothing else to do—want a lift somewhere?”

Sylvie’s eyes were bloodshot as she stared at her. Of course she knew Patricia had played a part in getting her here, but even knowing that, there was nothing she could do about it.

—

As soon as Sylvie parted ways with Patricia, her phone rang—it was Selma.

Selma’s voice was shrill with panic. “The lawyer Jarrod got for me—he just refused to represent me in court!”