How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 650

Elodie frowned. No one knew her condition better than she did; there was simply no need for all these tests. Besides, they had no idea she was terminally ill. Subjecting her to a battery of exams would be exhausting—more than she could handle.

“I’m fine. I’ve just been busy lately and probably lacking in some nutrients. There’s really no need for the tests.” Elodie refused politely.

She didn’t need anyone poking and prodding her—she’d lost count of how many blood draws she’d endured through years of treatment. Just the thought of it made her skin crawl. Besides, she’d only just joined the 719 team for the sixth-generation project. If word got out about her health, everything could fall apart. There were too many factors to consider.

Jarrod’s brow creased. “Elodie, it’s for your own good. A checkup wouldn’t hurt.”

She kept her expression neutral, voice steady. “As you can see, I’m perfectly fine right now. What you should be focusing on is finding out who’s behind all this, instead of wasting time on me. If you don’t solve that problem, you’ll have trouble down the line.”

“Wasting time?” Jarrod’s dark eyes fixed on her. “Elodie, I know how to set priorities.”

It was clear the two of them weren’t going to see eye to eye.

The doctor picked up on the tension and offered a gentle compromise. “There’s no rush. You can think about it. I’m only making a suggestion.”

Ultimately, it was up to the patient. Doctors never forced these things.

“And Ms. Thorne, you’ve got some soft tissue bruising and swelling on your shoulder. We’ll need to take care of that.”

The ER was busy—the doctor was quickly called away.

Alexander sensed the undercurrent in the room. He knew Elodie’s temperament well. Glancing at his watch, he chimed in, “You just got sick. I’ll go grab you something to eat.”

As soon as he left, the room fell quiet. Jarrod, of course, had no intention of leaving. Andrea would coordinate with the police to handle the person they’d caught.

Without a word, Jarrod began cleaning up the vomit Elodie had left in the trash can. His expression gave nothing away. Elodie watched him—this golden boy, born with every privilege, now calmly dealing with a task most people wouldn’t do for their own family. He didn’t hesitate. Once he finished, he washed his hands and brought her a glass of water.

Then he sat beside her hospital bed, not looking at his phone, not saying a word.