How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 337

It could even have greater benefits for the surgery.

“You know Dr. Warwick, don’t you?” Emile asked, peeling an apple for Elodie and slicing it into neat pieces before speaking.

Elodie glanced up from the book resting on her lap. “We’ve met a few times. Not close.”

Emile chuckled. “He seems like a good guy. Doesn’t talk much, but he always checks in on me when he has time—even though he isn’t my attending physician. Very responsible, and honestly, a pretty decent young man.”

Elodie poured him a glass of water, amused. “Funny, I’ve never heard you praise Dr. Latham this much.”

“I always praise Dr. Latham to his face,” Emile replied with mock solemnity, lifting the glass. “But Dr. Warwick—now, he’s the kind of clean-cut, bright young gentleman you don’t see often. I overheard some nurses chatting: not only is he single, but apparently, he’s from a prominent family and keeps his nose clean. That kind of character is rare these days!”

Elodie raised her brows in surprise. “Uncle, you have quite the social life here, don’t you? Even up on all the hospital gossip.”

He tapped her forehead lightly. “Child, haven’t you heard of ‘rare commodities’?”

Divorced. Work piling up. Sometimes you need a little romance to balance out the monotony of life.

Elodie got what Emile was hinting at, but she truly wasn’t interested. She was about to gently tell him not to worry so much when someone knocked at the door.

A nurse’s aide she didn’t recognize entered, carrying a beautifully decorated cake.

The woman smiled as she placed it on the table. “Mr. Thorne and Ms. Thorne, right?”

Elodie glanced at the cake and nodded. “And you are…?”

The aide gestured toward the hallway. “I work downstairs. Someone asked me to help deliver slices of cake to everyone—a little celebration in advance. Her daughter’s waiting on grad school results, so she wanted to share the good luck around.”

Elodie’s eyes darkened, though her expression barely changed.

She realized immediately: Selma had arranged this.

Clearly, Selma was confident Sylvie would get in.