She didn’t want Elodie and Jarrod to have much contact.

Nor did she like the idea of Elodie’s scent or traces lingering on Jarrod-his clothes, his things, his private space.

Jarrod didn’t protest.

He glanced up.

Through the rearview mirror, he caught sight of a slender figure who’d just reached the bus stop.

She swayed slightly, as if fighting a faintness—maybe low blood sugar or something else forced to steady herself on the metal side of an ad board.

She looked unwell.

His eyes stayed cold and indifferent, but still, he spoke. “Pull over.”

Sylvie and Octavia looked up.

Octavia was first to spot Elodie’s predicament. She guessed what Jarrod was thinking and muttered irritably, “Jarrod, are you really falling for her act? She’s just upset from before and putting on a show!”

“Just ignore her. If you pay her any mind, she’ll take advantage.” Octavia pleaded, eager to be gone.

Sylvie glanced back too, lips quirking in silent amusement.

Elodie’s performances were becoming more frequent.

Neither here nor there, always chasing after a man who didn’t love her-how pathetic.

Jarrod looked once more in the rearview, thoughtful for a moment.

Octavia, exasperated, reached out to tug Jarrod’s sleeve to distract him.

Instead, her elbow bumped Sylvie’s arm.

Sylvie inhaled sharply.

Octavia panicked. “Did I hurt you?”

Jarrod immediately turned back, concern written on his face. “What’s wrong?”

Sylvie, seeing how much he cared, smiled gently. “It’s nothing. I just bumped my wrist yesterday while checking some parts at the workshop. It’s much better now.” “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“It was late. I didn’t want you to worry.” Sylvie shook her head.

Jarrod pressed his lips, then looked at the driver. “Take us to the hospital.”

As for Elodie, he had no energy left to care.

Sylvie saw his reaction and couldn’t help but let out a soft, happy laugh.

By the time Elodie had caught her breath, still leaning against the ad board, her lips were pale.

She heard the roar of a car engine and turned to see Jarrod’s car speeding away.

It felt as if the exhaust had washed right over her, lingering in the chill.

He hadn’t looked back, hadn’t hesitated.

She didn’t care what was happening with them. She simply sat down, letting herself rest for a while.

The cold crept into her bones, making her shiver. She waited for her ride-share to arrive, then headed home.

New Year’s was just around the corner, and the company was about to close for the holidays.

But this year was different. She was divorced now, and there was no need to spend New Year’s with the Silverstein family. She could go home to her grandmother and uncle instead.

Her family was small, her mother gone, the house always a little too quiet.

Elodie thought for a moment, then decided to take her grandmother and uncle somewhere special for the holiday.

She asked Esmeralda Eldermere for recommendations-places where the elderly could relax and enjoy themselves. Esmeralda quickly sent her a long list of options.

Elodie went through them and picked out a mountain resort hotel with hot springs. They offered a special New Year’s dinner, and the place was set in a scenic area on the edge of town. There’d be a bonfire party in the evening; lots of people liked to celebrate there together.

It would be easy, relaxing, and fun.

She booked a single room for herself, and a large suite for Rosemary and Emile, with the option to have meals delivered to the room.

When she told her grandmother, the old woman’s spirits lifted-she was more than happy to get out of the house for a change.

Tuesday.

New Year’s Eve.

On the way up the mountain, Elodie mulled over whether she should let Jarrod know she wouldn’t be spending the holiday with the Silversteins this year.

She stared at his name in her contacts.

In the end, she put her phone away.

Surely Jarrod knew she wouldn’t be coming back this year.

He’d come up with an excuse for the family matriarch himself-she was sure of it.