It could even have greater benefits for the surgery.


    "You know Dr. Warwick, don''t you?" Emile asked, peeling an apple for Elodie and slicing it into neat pieces before speaking.


    Elodie nced up from the book resting on herp. "We''ve met a few times. Not close."


    Emile chuckled. “He seems like a good guy. Doesn''t talk much, but he always checks in on me when he has time-even though he isn''t my attending physician. Very responsible, and honestly, a pretty decent young man."


    Elodie poured him a ss of water, amused. "Funny, I''ve never heard you praise Dr. Latham this much."


    "I always praise Dr. Latham to his face," Emile replied with mock solemnity, lifting the ss. “But Dr. Warwick-now, he''s the kind of clean-cut, bright young gentleman you don''t see often. I overheard some nurses chatting: not only is he single, but apparently, he''s from a prominent family and keeps his nose clean. That kind of character is rare these days!"


    Elodie raised her brows in surprise. "Uncle, you have quite the social life here, don''t you? Even up on all the hospital gossip."


    He tapped her forehead lightly. "Child, haven''t you heard of ''raremodities''?"


    Divorced. Work piling up. Sometimes you need a little romance to bnce out the monotony of life.


    Elodie got what Emile was hinting at, but she truly wasn''t interested. She was about to gently tell him not to worry so much when someone knocked at the door.


    A nurse''s aide she didn''t recognize entered, carrying a beautifully decorated cake. The woman smiled as she ced it on the table. "Mr. Thorne and Ms. Thorne, right?"


    Elodie nced at the cake and nodded. "And you are...?"


    The aide gestured toward the hallway. "I work downstairs. Someone asked me to help deliver slices of cake to everyone-a little celebration in advance. Her daughter''s waiting on grad school results, so she wanted to share the good luck around."


    Elodie''s eyes darkened, though her expression barely changed.


    She realized immediately: Selma had arranged this.


    Clearly, Selma was confident Sylvie would get in.


    But this gesture... This was nothing but a brazen disy.


    Elodie had done everything she could to keep her uncle and grandmother in the dark-to shield them from knowing Jarrod''s affair had been with Selma''s


    daughter. She didn''t want their fragile health shaken by such a blow.


    And now, Selma was using these petty tricks, unting herself right in front of the Thornes.


    "What''s the asion?" Emile asked, confused.


    "No one we know," Elodie replied, her face perfectly impassive. "And we don''t ept food from unknown sources in the hospital." She walked over, picked up the cake, and fixed the aide with a cool stare. "Could you please show me the way? I''d like to thank them in person."


    The aide shrank under Elodie''s gaze, nodded quickly, and hurried out.


    Downstairs, Elodie moved with purpose. She knew exactly which room Selma was in-after all, Selma had snatched her uncle''s private room the moment it became avable; Elodie had been here enough to know the ce by heart.


    Inside,ughter and cheerful voices rang out.


    Elodie''s face was frosty as she pushed the door open.


    Selma and Sylvie both looked up. Selma kept her smile. "Elodie! What a surprise. Come join us, have some cake?"


    Elodie also noticed Jarrod by the window, turning slightly to look her way.


    She didn''t spare him a nce, nor did she respond to Selma.


    Instead, she walked straight over to the main cake-an borate confection with "Congrattions, Sylvie!" written on it-set her own te on top, and pressed down, crushing the perfect slice into the bigger cake.


    The effect was deliberate and devastating; the once-beautiful cake was ruined in an instant.


    Selma''s smile faltered, her face twisting.


    Sylvie scowled, her displeasure obvious.


    Was this Elodie''s idea of manners? Of decorum? No wonder the Sterling family had never let her cross their threshold.


    Elodie showed no emotion. She turned to the man watching her from the sidelines, his expression cold and detached. "Jarrod, you have two choices: either they leave this hospital today, or I''ll tear off your ''official girlfriend''s'' shiny fa?ade and drag her out of your precious social circle. Pick one."