How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 605

The little fridge was hers alone.

She’d picked out this model after much deliberation; it had long been discontinued, and she was certain it was the same one from before. After all, the surface was still covered with the collection of magnets she’d gathered from her travels.

Noticing her gaze, Cara—who’d been busy all day setting up the new house—came over, opened the fridge, and pulled out a small glass jar filled with dried fruit. “Would you like a snack, ma’am?” she asked, offering it to Elodie.

Cara always remembered Elodie’s preferences. Her movements were practiced and familiar, and even the dried fruit was freshly stocked.

Elodie had assumed the fridge would be empty. But a quick glance told her otherwise—the dried fruit was clearly homemade, and the date on the label was recent.

“No, thank you,” Elodie declined.

Just then, Jarrod strolled in, cup of water in hand, and caught the tail end of her reply.

When Elodie noticed him, she grew a little suspicious.

Did Jarrod like these snacks, too? Was that why the house was always stocked with them?

Jarrod, sensing her stare, rapped his knuckles lightly on the table and drawled, “Why are you looking at me like that? Am I not allowed to like this fridge?”

Only the two of them knew what he really meant.

After all, the whole house had been gutted and redecorated after the wedding, so it was odd that this one thing remained.

Elodie met his gaze coolly. “It’s mine.”

Jarrod turned to leave, his tone lazy. “Not for sale.”

Elodie was left speechless.

He always seemed to know what she was about to say, always shutting her down before she could get a word in.

Cara, standing off to the side, couldn’t make heads or tails of their cryptic exchange—it was like listening to a conversation through fog.