How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue

Jarrod's brow was deeply furrowed, his vision shrouded in darkness.

Elodie's panicked voice barely pulled him back to consciousness for a fleeting instant. With great effort, he lifted a trembling hand and gently touched the back of her head. "It's all right... Andrea and the others will be here soon. Don't be scared..."

His voice was barely a whisper, thin and weak.

But to Elodie, every word felt like a needle piercing her heart, the ache spreading through her chest and lungs.

Ignoring the searing pain in her arm-likely fractured from the impact-she scrambled off Jarrod's body. Her hands shook as she reached for his, completely lost as to what to do. "Tell me where it hurts, Jarrod. Please, open your eyes and look at me."

She desperately tried to find the source of his injury.

But she barely dared to touch him.

After all, her entire adult weight had crashed down on him from the second floor. The damage to him had to be severe.

Even though she was already as light as she could possibly be.

Jarrod's eyelids were unbearably heavy; her words barely registered in his mind. Suddenly, Elodie's hand came away slick and warm with blood.

The heat of it made her heart clench painfully, and her face turned deathly pale. That warmth meant he was still bleeding-badly.

She knelt at his side, body shaking with cold, her expression crumbling. Her voice was hoarse as she called out, "Ivan! Andrea! Hurry, bring the car! He-he needs a hospital, now!"

Andrea's car screamed around the corner; she jumped out, visibly shaken, and immediately hefted Jarrod onto her back, hauling him into the vehicle.

Sirens wailed in the distance as chaos erupted around them.noveldrama

Elodie, clutching her shoulder, climbed in after them.

They tore through the streets to the hospital.

A special lane was cleared for them, and Jarrod was rushed into surgery at breakneck speed.

Elodie stood outside the operating room, her head ringing with a deafening roar.

Her arm hung limp at her side, trembling, but she just stared at the closed doors, not shedding a single tear.

Andrea was the first to notice Elodie's arm was clearly injured. She hurried to fetch a doctor.

The doctor quickly examined Elodie's arm, frowning. "How did this happen?"

Elodie kept her eyes fixed on the surgery doors, swallowing hard against her parched throat. "I fell from the second floor."

The doctor's eyes widened in disbelief. "That high? It's only a forearm fracture- honestly, that's a miracle."

The words cut straight into Elodie's heart.

It was true.

If Jarrod hadn't shielded her with his body, she wouldn't have survived the fall.

The doctor wasted no time. "You'll need surgery right away."

Elodie glanced toward the room where Jarrod was being operated on. Her eyes were red and burning as she turned to Andrea. "Please, keep this under wraps for now. Wait until we're both out before telling anyone."

Andrea understood the gravity of the situation and nodded solemnly. "Don't worry, ma'am. I'll handle things here."

Only then did Elodie register the unrelenting pain coursing through her arm.

She could no longer move it at all.

It was a night of utter chaos.

By the time Ivan arrived, having finally dealt with Malcom, his face was drawn and ashen. He was out of breath as he asked Andrea, "Where's Elodie?"

"She fractured her arm," Andrea replied. "She's in surgery now, but she'll be all right."

Ivan let out a heavy sigh of relief. "What about Jarrod?"

Andrea's brow was furrowed. "Not good. He's lost a lot of blood from a knife wound. The doctors think he may have multiple fractured ribs, possibly a punctured lung.

At that, Ivan's face darkened.

The truth was, he blamed himself for all of this.

He never imagined that confronting Malcom, giving him one last shove, would

push the man to such a desperate, unhinged act.

Now he understood why Jarrod had taken such ruthless revenge, all without

letting Malcom realize who was behind it.

People, when cornered, could do the unthinkable. Malcom-Elodie's own father- hadn't hesitated for a second.

Not even a shred of conscience.

Jarrod's injuries had to be kept secret.

Given his unique status, any leak could cause a public scandal, or worse-invite trouble they couldn't afford.