How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 768

Elodie’s eyes flickered as she finally remembered—the date for her surgical procedure had arrived, rescheduled because of the new treatment plan.

It was right in this window of time.

Jarrod was injured too, still far from recovered.

Elias walked over, taking a moment to assess Jarrod’s condition. He already had some idea of what had happened before he came in.

Jarrod’s injuries were serious.

A broken rib had punctured his lung; naturally, he’d need a long period of rest and recovery.

Elias lowered his gaze to Elodie. Beyond her arm in a cast, her face was drawn and pale, the look of someone who’d recently been ill. Her cheeks were flushed with fever, but her overall complexion was ashen and exhausted.

Her hand, resting on the side of the bed, trembled—likely from having barely eaten.

“You haven’t had anything to eat?” he asked quietly.

Elodie realized she hadn’t. She’d gone straight to Silverstein Group headquarters without stopping for anything.

Now she was beyond tired, running on empty.

Elias was silent for a moment. Then he pulled a still-warm bottle of sweetened milk from his coat pocket and set it beside her hand.

“You need to rest,” he said. “Tomorrow’s surgery can’t afford any more surprises.”

Elodie knew he was right; her condition was truly poor.

After the miscarriage surgery, she could feel it—her body was running on fumes.

She didn’t want to end up back on the operating table right when Jarrod was so badly hurt, but there was no delaying it any longer. Even if Jarrod woke up, he wouldn’t be in any shape to worry about her, but she knew he would anyway.

“Okay. I understand. Please go ahead and start preparations. We’ll do it on schedule tomorrow,” Elodie exhaled shakily. She had to face it, whether she liked it or not.

As for what tomorrow would bring… she had no idea.

Elias saw that Elodie had no intention of leaving, and didn’t try to persuade her. He could understand what she was feeling.

“Take care of yourself first. No food for twenty-four hours before surgery—so after lunch today, nothing more. This afternoon the nurse will start you on antibiotics.”

Elodie gave him a grateful look. “Thank you.”

He nodded toward the bottle. “Stay with him for a while.”

But his body was too tightly bandaged. As soon as he tried to move, pain seared through his side.

He closed his eyes and let out a careful breath.

The door opened, and Lucinda stepped in.

She saw Jarrod lying there, oxygen mask still on, head turned, quietly watching Elodie on the sofa. There was a softness in his eyes she’d never seen before.

Something twisted in her chest.

He was her son, after all these years, and this was the first time she’d ever witnessed this side of him.

“How did it get this bad?” She quickly collected herself, lowering her voice so as not to wake Elodie.

Her expression darkened as she took in Jarrod’s injuries.

Jarrod felt stifled and uncomfortable. He pulled off the oxygen mask. “I’ll live,” he replied gruffly.

“This is what you call ‘fine’?” Lucinda’s anger flared, but there was worry in her voice too. “I’ll have the doctor take another look at you.”