How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 89

Elodie had just arrived at the airport. After checking her luggage, she finally replied, "Around four thirty."

There was a brief silence on the other end. "Got it. Wait for me when you land. I'll drive you back into the city."

She could only assume it was her grandmother who'd nudged him into making this call.

Still, after what happened last night, she hesitated.

Jarrod seemed to pick up on it. His tone was almost amused, "Grandma asked me to bring you home."

He was using her grandmother as a shield. Elodie frowned, her brow tightening. "...When are you planning to tell her?"

"Jarrod, they're starting to board." Sylvie's voice suddenly broke in from his side of the call.

Then—beep, beep, beep.

He'd hung up.

She wasn't even sure he'd heard what she said.

And as for what happened last night, it was as if it hadn't even registered with him.

If she'd heard right just now… the boarding announcement on his end sounded exactly like hers.

Were they on the same flight?

Elodie almost laughed.

How was he supposed to give her a ride home when he was with Sylvie?

She decided not to waste any more thought on it.

The flight from Fairview Crossing to Eldermere took about two hours. After landing, Elodie collected her suitcase.

She remembered Jarrod's words about giving her a lift back to the city. Clearly, her grandmother must have given him strict instructions.

Elodie found a seat and tried calling Jarrod.

No answer.

She figured he'd get back to her once he'd sorted out whatever he was doing.

She didn't dwell on it. Instead, she pulled out her laptop and got to work, determined not to waste time just sitting around.

Time slipped by in the cramped waiting area. Eventually, her neck stiff and sore, she checked her watch.

Over forty minutes had passed.

Still no word from Jarrod.

Esmeralda sounded confused. "Didn't you land at four thirty? It's past five thirty now, and you're only just leaving?"

Elodie hesitated, a faint, bitter smile flickering over her lips. "I got held up. I'll come see you in a bit."

"No, no, don't. The hospital's full of people coughing and running fevers. Don't get yourself sick too. Just go home and rest."

Elodie didn't argue.

When she finally got home, a message from the hospital was waiting.

—[Ms. Thorne, you can begin your first round of radiation next week.]

She replied, then went straight to bed.

The last two days traveling had drained her completely; exhaustion crashed over her like a wave.

Feeling unwell, Elodie called in sick and spent the whole day at home.

But she didn't idle. Instead, she carefully mapped out plans for the third anniversary of her mother's passing.

Her grandmother placed special importance on the third year. In her mind, it was a definitive farewell, something the older generation believed carried great significance.

There were still two weeks to go. Elodie had time to prepare.