How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

It was nothing, really.

A phone on the table buzzed to life.

Jarrod spared it only a passing glance.

Unknown number.

He pressed decline.

Whoever was on the other end seemed to grow impatient and kept calling, again

and again.noveldrama

In between flipping through The Harcourt Group's files, Jarrod simply blocked the

number.

Elodie hadn't rested for long.

Her last episode had caught everyone off guard.

There was still unfinished business at the research base-she needed to wrap up

phase one of the project.

She made her way to the hangar to test the new system.

System maintenance was a tedious process, requiring round after round of

diagnostics.

By the time she finished, evening was drawing near.

Walking from the hangar toward the data center, she crossed paths with Watts,

who had just stepped out of his car.

Ever since the incident a while back, Elodie hadn't seen Watts in some time.

Watts caught sight of her-his usually composed expression flickered with

something unspoken.

He stood there, watching her.

Elodie barely glanced up before returning her focus to the data sheets in her

hands.

The higher-ups were still investigating her claim about the data tampering.

Clearly, it wasn't a simple matter-there were no leads yet.

But Elodie had already figured out enough.

She knew exactly what kind of person she was dealing with.

She had no intention of speaking to Watts again.

She didn't bother with a greeting, just turned to head upstairs.

But Watts called out first. "Elodie, can we talk?"

She had no choice but to stop.

There was no one else around; his voice was clear and direct.

Watts could see it plainly-Elodie's indifference, her refusal to even acknowledge

him.

He walked over, eyes lowered,

regarding her. "You've been avoiding

me, haven't you? There's really no

need I'm just here to hand in my

resignation from the project team."

Elodie turned to the side, expression unreadable.

She didn't dignify that with a response.

Watts gave a helpless shrug. "You think I set you up, don't you? The data

tampering, your suspension... all of it?"

Elodie closed the folder, her voice

calm and without a trace of anger.

Whether you did or didn't doesn't

matter. You're just a colleague.

Office politics don't interest me."

Watts' eyes darkened at that.

Elodie turned and walked away.

He could only watch her go.

Only now did the full weight of her detachment hit him-cold and unmistakable.

A colleague?

Irrelevant?

Her tone had been almost gentle, emotionless, yet the words landed with a sting

that left him deeply unsettled.

Watts frowned, storm clouds gathering in his usually easygoing eyes.

He barely noticed.

Something else was nagging at him.

Patricia's call.

He climbed back into his car.

"I called him, and every time he just

blocked me! I only wanted to invite

him to my exhibition! Is that too

much to ask?" Patricia's voice was

edged with anger and

agitation-party music thumped in

the background, half-drowned by her

frustration.

Watts frowned in silence.

He knew Patricia wasn't in a great place these days.

Her parents had split. She'd grown up mostly abroad, unsupervised, with a

temperament that could swing to extremes.

And then there was...

Patricia had been adopted by the Aldridge family.

Years ago, she'd made a scene about not being their biological child.

Especially when it came to Jarrod-anything involving him was a minefield. A few

years back, Jarrod's indifference had sent her into a tailspin.

For months, she couldn't even hear his name.

She'd either lose herself in her art, refusing food and sleep, or drown her pain in

alcohol.

Watts knew that artists-especially those with some fame-often led complicated

lives. Patricia, given her background, was more volatile than most.

"Where are you?" Watts' voice was cold. Patricia's current state worried him.

"Tell me," she said, sidestepping his question, "if I dragged Elodie to my

exhibition, Jarrod would have to show up, wouldn't he?"