How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 631

Elodie hadn’t slept a wink last night, and the storm of emotions had left her utterly drained. Her body felt leaden, every muscle aching with exhaustion.

She sipped a glass of water to soothe her parched throat, then shuffled back to the bedroom, collapsing onto the bed. It surprised her how much energy it took just to be angry, to shout and argue. She was realizing, with a kind of helpless resignation, that she no longer had the strength for these endless battles.

Sleep didn’t come easily. She drifted in and out, her mind restless and unsettled.

Late in the morning, the doorbell rang.

Elodie forced herself up, weary limbs protesting. She peered through the peephole and saw a courier waiting on the porch.

She wracked her brain, trying to remember if she’d ordered anything, but nothing came to mind.

“Ms. Thorne, I have a package for you. Could you please sign here?”

She glanced at the label—the box was definitely addressed to her, name and phone number printed in neat block letters.

“Thank you. Have a good day,” she managed, accepting the parcel and closing the door behind her.

The box wasn’t heavy. She weighed it in her hands, then checked the shipping label. It had been sent from a small, remote town, somewhere she’d never even heard of. The shipment date was a week ago.

She opened the box and found, right on top, a large envelope containing a certificate.

Curious, Elodie pulled it out and unfolded it. For a moment, she simply stared, uncomprehending.

It was a donation certificate, complete with receipts for various contributions. But these weren’t money transfers—these were records of something far bigger.

Ten schools had been built, bearing her name and Jarrod’s. Ten schools scattered across different counties and small towns, some so distant she had to double-check the locations. The farthest was in the mountains, practically at the edge of the map.

The package had come from one of those far-off schools.