How a Dying Woman Rewrote Her Epilogue novel Chapter 836

The child Jarrod had brought home so suddenly was like a little bomb dropped right in the middle of the room, setting off a wave of tension.

Before Rosemary had come over, her expression had been thunderous. But as she joined the others and finally got a look at the baby in Jarrod’s arms, she abruptly fell silent. Surprise flickered in her eyes, and she glanced at Elodie, who stood calmly at his side.

Maybe the others couldn't see it, but Rosemary had watched Elodie grow up—she recognized those eyes immediately. The baby’s eyes were just like Elodie’s when she was little!

But that was impossible. She struggled to wrap her mind around it.

Henrietta arrived next, and before she even glanced at the child, her palm landed sharply on Jarrod’s back. “Jarrod! You’d better explain yourself! Who is this child, and where did they come from? If you’ve been fooling around behind our backs, don’t think for a second I’ll accept it. No child of uncertain parentage is stepping through the Silverstein family’s door!”

The old woman was genuinely furious. After all, Jarrod and Elodie had spent years with no children, and Elodie had been undergoing treatment for her health, with no plans for a pregnancy. For a child to suddenly appear out of nowhere—how was she supposed to accept it? How was she supposed to explain this to Rosemary?

Henrietta’s slap wasn’t gentle, and Jarrod winced from the sting. He glanced down at Elodie, who was watching the scene unfold, clearly with no intention of rescuing him. There was a faint, knowing smile on her lips as she met his eyes, cool and unhurried. He realized Elodie was deliberately letting him take the heat.

Then Lucinda stepped forward, sensing something wasn’t right. She carefully took the baby from Jarrod, examining her closely. Lucinda wasn’t the sentimental type, and children had never really softened her heart. But the moment she held the little girl, the baby waved a tiny hand and gifted her a beaming, impossibly beautiful smile. Lucinda froze, caught off guard, before her brow furrowed again. She refused to fall for this—no matter how adorable, she wasn’t about to welcome a love child, even if it was her own son’s.

“Explain,” she demanded, glaring at Jarrod as she turned the baby toward Henrietta, determined to get to the bottom of things.

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