How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Elodie's emotions were impossible to name.

After so many years, she'd finally received apologies-from those who had hurt her, and from those who'd benefited from her pain. The circumstances were far from ordinary, of course. Without everything that had happened, it would have been almost impossible to hear those words from Sylvie's lips.

But Elodie knew the truth: Sylvie was only apologizing because she was desperate to avoid the consequences. This wasn't remorse-it was self- preservation.

Still, for a woman as proud as Sylvie, this moment would haunt her for the rest of her life. The humiliation and the blow to her pride would linger, far longer than any loss of reputation or fortune. The real punishment was the agony she'd carry inside.

Elodie ignored the flash of stiffness and resentment that twisted Sylvie's face. Instead, she turned to Jarrod, her eyes calm and steady. "She can't leave, Jarrod. She has to answer for what she's done."

The words had barely settled when Sylvie's composure shattered, panic rising in her voice. "Elodie! What more do you want from me?!"

She'd already swallowed her pride, fallen to her knees and begged. Why wouldn't Elodie let her go? Why was she being so cruel?

Elodie had no interest in arguing. Her stance was clear. Without another word, she turned and climbed into the waiting car.

Sylvie's world was collapsing. If she stayed, she was finished-there was no way out. She looked at Jarrod in desperation. "Jarrod, she's fine, isn't she? Didn't you say that if I apologized-"noveldrama

Jarrod's eyes flicked over her, his gaze cold and distant beneath dark lashes. "If you hadn't tried to pull off one last stunt before leaving, do you really think you'd have had any right to see me at all?”

Sylvie stared at him in disbelief.

It was the first time she'd ever heard him speak with such raw indifference. Jarrod had always been composed, a man of restraint and manners. But now, he was laying out the truth-blunt and bloody.

Andrea glanced at Jarrod, understanding all too well. Even if Mr. Silverstein had been prepared, even if Ms. Thorne hadn't been hurt, just the fact that Sylvie had tried something like this was enough to enrage him.

Sylvie's last illusions crumbled. She really did love Jarrod-she'd never felt this way about anyone. And yet, what did he give her in return?

"Didn't you ever... feel anything for me?" The bitterness was overwhelming. She fixed her eyes on him, desperate to see even a flicker of hesitation or pity.

There was nothing.

Jarrod looked at her, voice utterly detached. "You're the woman my wife despises most. What right do you think you have?"

His tone was almost gentle, but the words cut to the bone.

Wife.

Hearing that word, Sylvie felt her last hope snuffed out.

Before she could even catch her breath, the sound of approaching sirens filled the air, growing louder with every heartbeat.

Panic-stricken, Sylvie looked around. Suddenly, she understood: it wasn't her own insistence on seeing Jarrod that kept her here. He'd planned for everything. Even if she and Selma hadn't tried to hurt Elodie tonight, he would never have let her escape. If not for Elodie, he wouldn't have bothered to see her at all.

Right up to the very end, Jarrod had been in control.

A brutal realization struck her-Jarrod treated Elodie differently. A man like him, so precise and reserved, would never go to these lengths for anyone else. Only for Elodie. From beginning to end, he'd made sure Elodie was untouched, unscathed.

"-Sylvie!" Selma's hoarse voice broke through her daze.

Sylvie snapped back to reality, seeing that Selma-who should have already left -had also been brought back.

Utterly broken, Sylvie looked at the man standing there, so calm and distant, so unfeeling.

He hadn't left her even a sliver of hope.

"Jarrod, I hate you!" The words tore out of her, hatred mingling with twisted love in her eyes.

Jarrod's gaze was cold, his voice

low and steady. "Yes, you should hate me. But make sure you hate the right person. I'm the one who put you in this situation. Elodie had nothing to do with it."

Tears streamed down Sylvie's face, her eyes burning red.

That single sentence crushed her last shred of hope.

He had destroyed her-and left her with nothing.

Only now, at the very end, did she finally comprehend what a terrifying man Jarrod truly was. He could manipulate people's hearts and lives with almost no effort at all.