How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 33

Elodie hadn't expected this turn of events, but she couldn't say she was surprised.

An event this important—of course Jarrod wouldn't pass up the chance to polish Sylvie's reputation for all to see.

Still...

"I'm sorry, Alex. You went to all this trouble for nothing." Elodie felt a pang of guilt for dragging Alexander into the ongoing feud between her, Jarrod, and Sylvie.

It would've helped VistaLink Technologies if she'd been given the spotlight, but Jarrod hadn't offered her that chance.

Alexander frowned, but tried to reassure her. "Don't worry about it. Our seats are right next to Mr. Patrick. There'll be plenty of time to talk, and we'll have other chances to network."

But just as they were about to find their seats, a staff member approached Elodie and said, "I'm sorry, Ms. Thorne. There's been a change in the guest list. Your seat has been reassigned to Table Two. Thank you for understanding."

Elodie glanced up.

Her original spot in the front row was now occupied—Sylvie sat there, already settled in.

Next to Sylvie, Jarrod sipped his tea, utterly nonchalant, not even sparing Elodie a glance.

It had been her seat. He'd handed it over to Sylvie without the slightest effort or hint of remorse.

The staffer looked at Elodie with genuine apology.

Elodie pressed her lips together. "That's fine."

Alexander, still caught up at the front with some VIPs, didn't notice what was happening; she had no intention of making a scene.

Besides, Alexander belonged up front—his own achievements earned him the seat, and having Charlie, the renowned aerospace scientist, as a father didn't hurt. He belonged in that circle.

And her? She was just a nobody Alexander had brought along—a face no one recognized.

Everyone could see what Jarrod was doing: he wanted Sylvie in the spotlight, and with his status, no one would refuse him. Compared to "Alexander's company underling," Elodie was the easy one to offend.

Elodie didn't know what she was feeling.

She'd spent all night and day preparing, hoping to pitch her ideas to someone like Mr. Patrick—now, that chance was gone.

When she sat down at Table Two, she noticed Maurice was there, too.

Maurice glanced up from his phone, eyes flickering over Elodie's dress—remarkably similar to Sylvie's.

He let out a quiet, mocking laugh.

Then he looked away, absorbed in his screen again.

So, Elodie wasn't here to sabotage them—she was here to join them? Both women in matching outfits? Was it really just a coincidence?

How ridiculous.

Elodie couldn't care less about Maurice's attitude, and she ignored him completely.

The lights began to dim.

Elodie stood and slipped out to the restroom.