How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 586

After wrapping up her errands, Elodie had barely set foot back in the VistaLink Technologies office when her phone buzzed with a call from Albin.

He got straight to the point: “Selma’s lawyer just refused to represent her in court.”

Elodie sat down, surprise flickering across her face. “Refused? To defend her?”

Albin, by contrast, sounded unsurprised, almost detached. “That’s right. With everything going on around Selma right now, this is probably a heavy blow for her.”

Elodie frowned, thinking it over. “It’s all so sudden.”

“Not exactly,” Albin replied. “That lawyer was a referral from Mr. Silverstein overseas—maybe there were... special circumstances. To be honest, I doubt he ever intended to follow through. He just stalled as long as he could. By now, Selma’s missed her chance to find someone else. They’re going to be left utterly unprepared, and there’s no way to get another lawyer last minute. Given their situation, they can’t even qualify for legal aid. This is going to push Selma’s side into full-blown panic.”

Elodie’s gaze drifted to her computer screen, a strange glint in her eyes.

For a lawyer to back out at such a critical moment—especially with Sylvie about to go down as well—was devastating. And with the lawsuit touching on intellectual property theft, even linking Selma to the illegal acquisition of her mother’s painting, there was no hope of government assistance. The whole case… it was practically a foregone conclusion.

“Was this Jarrod’s intention?” Elodie asked quietly, the words slipping out.

After all, Jarrod had helped line up the lawyer in the first place. Something about this reeked of manipulation.

Albin’s tone remained measured, almost icy. “I can’t answer that, Ms. Thorne. There are things you don’t know—a lot, I suspect.”

The implication was clear.

Elodie knew Albin wouldn’t say more, so she let it drop, switching instead to discuss the lawsuit’s details. Only then did they end the call.

She leaned back in her chair, slender fingers drumming thoughtfully on the desk. Her eyes skimmed her phone’s call log, lingering on a number with no name attached.

She’d never been able to figure Jarrod out—his motives, his next move. Not now, not ever. Doubt gnawed at her, refusing to let go.

Before she could spiral further, another call cut through her thoughts.

It was the authorities, requesting a follow-up interview. Waldron had already visited, given his statement—the investigation was all but wrapped up.