How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 557

Waldron was genuinely intrigued.

Five years ago, U.N2 had been a technological breakthrough—ushering in a whole new era of innovation.

At all the top universities, promising tech students were drilled on the limited internal data U.N2 had made public. Professors treated it as a case study, a gold mine for learning and research.

So, when the project came up, Waldron couldn’t help himself—he launched into a passionate monologue, pacing back and forth as he spoke.

Jarrod listened attentively, occasionally interjecting with technical insights or counterpoints. Their conversation grew more animated, the room charged with the energy of shared curiosity.

At the height of his excitement, Waldron stood up and started jotting down his favorite data sets on the chalkboard behind him. “I’ve already discussed these numbers with some of the top students,” he admitted, scrawling rapidly, “but there’s always a ceiling for raw talent. Some grasp the principles right away, but very few can reach this level of understanding.”

Jarrod absently traced the rim of his coffee cup with his thumb. “There are a few remarkable candidates in this year’s competition,” he said thoughtfully. “They’ll go far—just give them time.”

He’d barely finished speaking when a staff member poked their head in. “Excuse me, sir—Ms. Fielding has arrived.”

Jarrod finally looked up, his expression calm and unhurried.

“Send her in,” Waldron said with a wave.

When Sylvie entered, she immediately spotted Jarrod. She already knew he was visiting the Ferguson estate—she’d bumped into Maurice at the hotel earlier, and he’d mentioned Jarrod was here.

She’d been thinking she ought to come meet Mr. Ferguson anyway; with the competition tomorrow, she could use some guidance.

“Jarrod?” she asked, strolling over without missing a beat. “What brings you here to see Mr. Ferguson?”

“Nothing complicated,” Jarrod replied honestly. “Just inviting Mr. Ferguson to attend the event tomorrow.”

Waldron shot Sylvie a glance, then fixed Jarrod with a knowing look. “Mr. Silverstein, your intentions are admirable.”

Sylvie instantly wondered—had Jarrod come here because of her?

That thought alone eased some of her earlier anxiety.