The elderly woman—Mrs. Sterling, I presumed—wouldn't let go of my hand. Her grip was surprisingly strong for someone her age, and her eyes remained locked on my face with unsettling recognition.
"You're even more beautiful than Arthur described," she said, her voice warm with affection. "He said you were away on business. I've been waiting to meet you."
I gently extracted my hand from hers. "Ma'am, I think you're confused. I need to get you home safely."
Her smile dimmed slightly. "You don't need to pretend with me, dear. I know my grandson can be difficult. Always so secretive about his private life."
My mind raced. This had to be Arthur Sterling's grandmother—the same man who'd just denied knowing me entirely. The coincidence was too bizarre to be real.
"Let's find somewhere safe for you to sit," I said, guiding her to a nearby bench. "Do you have a phone? Someone I can call?"
She patted her pockets but came up empty. "I must have left it at home. Silly me."
I pulled out my own phone. "I'll call your family. What's your name?"
"Evelyn Sterling," she replied proudly. "But you should know that already, dear."
I searched for the Sterling family's contact information. Several numbers appeared for the Sterling Group, but nothing personal. I hesitated, then dialed the main business line.
After identifying myself as someone who had found Mrs. Evelyn Sterling, I was quickly transferred multiple times. Finally, a terse male voice answered.
"This is Jacob, Mr. Sterling's assistant. You've found Mrs. Sterling?"
"Yes, she's with me now. She seems disoriented but otherwise unharmed."
Relief was evident in his voice. "Thank God. We've been searching for hours. Where are you?"
I gave him our location, and he promised someone would arrive shortly. Before hanging up, he transferred me to Arthur Sterling himself.
"Is my grandmother all right?" Arthur's voice was tight with concern—a stark contrast to the cold dismissal I'd received earlier.
"She seems fine, just confused. She thinks..." I trailed off, unsure how to explain.
"She thinks what?" His tone sharpened.
I moved away from the bench so Mrs. Sterling couldn't overhear. "She thinks I'm your wife."
Silence stretched between us. When he finally spoke, his voice was measured. "My grandmother suffers from early-stage Alzheimer's. She gets confused about people and relationships."
"I see." That explained her behavior, at least. "Should I stay with her until you arrive?"
"No," he said quickly. "Give the address to my assistant. I'll send security to collect her. It's better if you're not there when they arrive."
I frowned. "Why? I found her. I should make sure she's safe—"
"Ms. Dubois," he cut in, "my family situation is complicated. The less you're involved, the better. For everyone."
The call ended before I could respond. I stared at my phone in frustration before returning to Mrs. Sterling.
"Your grandson is sending someone to get you," I explained gently.
Her face lit up. "Arthur is coming? Wonderful! He'll be so pleased to see us together at last."
I shook my head. "I won't be staying, Mrs. Sterling. I need to go once your family arrives."
"But why?" Her expression crumpled in disappointment. "Don't you want to see your husband?"
I sighed. How could I explain this impossible situation? "It's complicated."
"Love often is," she said sagely. "Arthur can be difficult, but he needs someone like you. Someone strong enough to stand beside him."
Before I could respond, police sirens sounded in the distance, growing closer. Deciding it was better to avoid complications, I called the local precinct and arranged for officers to take custody of Mrs. Sterling until her family arrived.
"I need to go now," I told her, squeezing her hand. "The police will stay with you until your grandson comes."
She clutched my hand desperately. "You'll come visit me, won't you? Promise me."
Her pleading eyes were hard to resist. "I'll try," I said, knowing it was probably a lie.
As I prepared to leave, she grabbed my phone from my hands with surprising dexterity. Before I could stop her, she was tapping at the screen.
"Mrs. Sterling, what are you—"
"There," she said triumphantly, handing it back. "Now I have your number, and you have mine. For when you're ready to come home."
I glanced at my screen and saw she'd entered a contact: "Grandma Evelyn." Something in her determined expression stopped me from deleting it immediately.
As police lights flashed around the corner, I slipped away, troubled by the strange encounter and what it might mean.
---
The next morning, my professor's secretary called me into his office unexpectedly. When I arrived, I found not just Professor Wright, but also Fiona and Genevieve waiting inside. My heart sank.
"Elara," Professor Wright greeted me solemnly. "Please, sit down."
I took the remaining chair, noting Fiona's smug expression and Genevieve's cold stare.
"I'm afraid I have some difficult news," he continued, shuffling papers on his desk. "I've had to withdraw my recommendation for your postgraduate application."
The words hit me like a physical blow. "What? Why?"
He looked uncomfortable. "Your mother has informed me of some... family circumstances that would make your continued studies impossible."
I turned to Genevieve in disbelief. "What have you done?"
"Only what's necessary," she replied coolly. "You've been enough of a burden on this family. It's time you made your own way in the world."
"My academics have nothing to do with you," I said, struggling to keep my voice steady.
Fiona leaned forward, her perfect features arranged in false concern. "It's for your own good, Elara. After your behavior last night, offending Arthur Sterling of all people—"
"I didn't offend him," I snapped.
"Oh? Then why did he leave so abruptly?" Fiona arched a perfectly shaped eyebrow. "Don't worry, I've already arranged everything. Here's a plane ticket to Argentina." She slid an envelope across the desk. "One of daddy's business contacts needs an English secretary. It's the perfect opportunity for someone with your... limited skills."
I ignored the envelope. "I'm not going anywhere."
Genevieve's voice hardened. "You have no choice. I've already initiated your withdrawal from the university."
"You can't do that!" I looked to Professor Wright. "She can't do that. I'm an adult."
He shifted uncomfortably. "Technically, since your tuition is paid through your family's account..."
"Which I control," Genevieve finished with a cruel smile. "Let's be honest, Elara. You were never destined for academic success. Your grades are mediocre at best."
My chest tightened. They didn't know—couldn't know—that I'd deliberately kept my grades average, never drawing attention, never outshining Fiona. It had been easier that way. Safer.
"Professor Wright," I appealed, "my research—"
"Is unremarkable," Genevieve interrupted. "Meanwhile, Fiona has been recognized for her exceptional talent."
Fiona preened. "That's right. I've received special admission for postgraduate study. Dr. Wilson himself has invited me to join his groundbreaking research team."
I froze. "Who did you say?"
"Dr. Wilson," Fiona repeated smugly. "You know, the brilliant scientist who was awarded a doctorate for his successful research on hydrogen energy oil cleaner fuel. He's selected me personally for his team."
I stared at her in utter astonishment. "Who did you say?" I demanded again, my voice barely above a whisper.