How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 528
About How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue - Chapter 528
How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue is the best current series by the author Miss Lyra. The Chapter 528 content below will immerse us in a world of love and hatred, where characters use every trick to achieve their goals without concern for the other half—only to regret it later. Please read chapter Chapter 528 and stay updated with the next chapters of this series at nisfree.com.
He wasn’t sure when Jarrod had arrived. One hand stuffed lazily in his pocket, Jarrod leaned against the car, his dark eyes catching the moonlight—intense, enigmatic, impossible to read.
Elodie’s steps faltered.
The moment their eyes met, she had no choice but to stop.
From her perspective, it was odd for Jarrod to seek her out at a time like this.
He seemed to sense her guardedness but didn’t seem to mind; instead, he strode over with his long-legged, easy gait.
“Mr. Silverstein, is there something you need?”
Elodie felt that suffocating aura he carried, the kind that pressed in from all sides. She wanted to take a step back.
Jarrod saw right through her and stopped where he was, his gaze dropping to meet hers in the silvered night. “I’d imagine you have plenty of questions. Maybe you want to talk things through face to face.”
He wasn’t wrong.
Even now, the day’s board meeting felt surreal, like she’d wandered through fog.
It had gone too smoothly.
But more than that, Jarrod hadn’t shown the slightest intention of bailing out Sylvie.
“You’re quite considerate, Mr. Silverstein.” Elodie’s tone was frosty, her eyes searching his for answers. “Sylvie’s been kicked out of the board. She’s got a lot to face. You coming all the way out here for her—must be a burden.”
Who knew if he was here to explain, or just to play mediator?
But the whole Nexus Analytics situation…
She had to admit, it was suspicious.
Yet experience—and her better judgment—warned her she was probably just imagining things.
“Yeah, she’s got a lot on her plate. Still, you seem to be taking it well.” Jarrod’s voice was calm, almost unhurried.
Elodie gave a cold, crooked smile. “Of course. Draining mother and daughter dry with my own hands—how could I not be in a good mood? Though it’s a shame you wasted your effort on her, Mr. Silverstein.”
Jarrod ignored the sting in her words, his clear gaze settling on her. Then, just as Elodie let her guard down for a split second, he reached out and caught her wrist, flipping it over with practiced ease.
He spotted a patch of scraped skin, about the size of a fingernail.
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