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How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Chapter 95
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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.

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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.

Selma's tone made it sound like Jarrod and Sylvie were already a couple. It wasn't a request-it was practically a notification.

Was Selma making a point? As if to say, *We're the real family here. You're on the outside*.

Elodie couldn't help but look at Jarrod with a touch of derision.

Today was her first round of treatment. She'd dragged herself, sick and exhausted, through the vast halls of the hospital-alone. But it wasn't just today.

For three years now, she'd had no one to lean on.

And yet her husband of three years, Jarrod, was here in the shospital, supporting Sylvie's family.

And now they wanted her uncle's hospital room? "My mother likes the locust tree outside that window," Sylvie said coolly, her tone gentle but leaving little room for negotiation. "Would you be willing to let your uncle give up the room?" She clearly didn't relish having to deal with Elodie, but had no choice. If it weren't for her mother's fondness for that tree-how beautiful it would look when it blossomed in spring-Sylvie wouldn't have bothered speaking to her at all.

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Elodie's lips twisted into a faint, humorless smile. She fixed her gaze on Jarrod. "No." Selma just *happened* to favor her uncle's room? Elodie didn't buy it for a second.

Last time, Selma and Sylvie hadn't gotten what they wanted with the house, and Elodie was sure they were ve still holding a grudge. Now, with Selma back in the country for treatment, they'd jumped at the first opportunity. This wasn't about the room-it was about making the Thorne family's life difficult. Sylvie's brow furrowed.

This was supposed to be a conversation between her and Elodie, yet Elodie kept her eyes on Jarrod. Sylvie hated any interaction between the two of them. "You should go keep your mother company," Jarrod said to Sylvie, his tone measured and calm.

He clearly wanted a word with Elodie alone.

Sylvie hesitated, her reluctance flickering in her eyes. But she knew-Jarrod had never cared for Elodie, so there was nothing to worry about.

"Fine. When you're done, we'll all go out for dinner." With a glance at Elodie, Sylvie lifted her chin and disappeared into the room.

Jarrod finally turned his attention to Elodie.

He noticed, perhaps for the first time, how pale she looked-and that she was holding a paper bag from the pharmacy. His gaze lingered on the bag, his lashes lowering. "Nyour price."