How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 543

“I just saw Ms. Fielding heading into Mr. Silverstein’s suite…”

“Are you sure? Did you really see her?”

“As sure as I am standing here. She walked in clear as day—and Mr. Silverstein was already back in his room.”

Elodie’s limbs felt like lead, her head throbbing with each heartbeat. Still, she forced herself to focus, catching every word of their conversation.

But she had no energy to care about any of it.

That was their business, not hers.

She could barely hold herself together as it was.

Mustering what little strength she had left, Elodie made her way to her room. She glanced up at the brass-plated number on the door, double-checked it, then slipped inside and shut the door behind her. Half-blind in the darkness, she staggered across the plush carpet, fumbling her way to the bed.

She collapsed face-first onto the covers.

–

Downstairs, the party raged on.

Those who could still keep up were playing and drinking well into the night.

Plenty of others had already given up, retiring to their rooms before midnight.

Watts had no interest in joining the games. He stood alone on the deck, leaning over the railing, a glass of whiskey warming his hand.

Before long, Patricia sauntered over, swirling her own drink. She flashed him a bright, teasing smile. “Still out here by yourself?”

Watts shot her a glance. “What of it?”

Patricia cocked her head, eyes glinting. “Aren’t you going to check on Elodie?”

This time, Watts didn’t bother replying. He just stared out into the darkness, sipping his drink.

Patricia watched him for a moment, then her lips curved in a sly little smirk. “Room 6103. I just made things easier for you. Don’t say I never did you any favors—now it’s up to you to make the most of it.”

That finally got Watts’ attention. He frowned at her. “What are you playing at?”

She cradled her chin in her hand, laughing softly. “Take a guess.”

With that, Patricia turned her gaze back toward the table where Elodie had been sitting earlier. Her eyes lingered on the wine glass left behind.

Watts followed her line of sight.

After a long, tense pause, his whole demeanor shifted, eyes sharpening. “Patricia, what did you do?”

“Nothing much… Just a custom cocktail, something with a bit of a kick. You know, the sort that loosens people up,” Patricia said, utterly nonchalant. She didn’t elaborate on the ingredients.