I dialed the emergency contact number on Mrs. Ricardo's medical alert bracelet, ignoring the inner voice telling me to use this unexpected connection to confront Lewis—or Nathaniel, whatever his real name was. Tempting as it was, I couldn't justify endangering an elderly woman with dementia.
"Ricardo residence," a crisp male voice answered.
"Hello, I've found Mrs. Margaret Ricardo wandering near Oakwood Avenue," I explained. "She seems disoriented."
There was a brief pause. "Who am I speaking with?"
"My name is Juliana Johnson. I noticed her medical alert bracelet and—"
"Stay where you are," he cut in, his tone shifting. "Mr. Ricardo will come personally."
"Actually, I was thinking I should call the police—"
"No police," the voice snapped. "Mr. Ricardo insists on handling this directly. Please remain with Mrs. Ricardo. He'll be there shortly."
The call ended abruptly, leaving me standing awkwardly beside the elderly woman, who was now patting my hand affectionately.
"Such lovely hands," she murmured. "My grandson chose well."
I smiled gently. "Mrs. Ricardo, I'm not—"
"Call me Margaret, dear. We're family."
Arguing seemed pointless. Instead, I guided her to a nearby bench, away from traffic. "Let's sit here while we wait, okay?"
She nodded, gripping my arm tightly. "He keeps your picture, you know. Says no one can know about you yet."
I froze. "What picture?"
"The one in his wallet. I saw it when he thought I wasn't looking." She tapped her temple. "I notice things. Even when they think old Margaret is lost in the fog."
A chill ran down my spine. This couldn't be real. It had to be her confusion talking.
After twenty uncomfortable minutes, I made a decision. Nathaniel Ricardo clearly wasn't coming, and I couldn't leave this vulnerable woman alone. I flagged down a passing police car.
"Officer, this is Mrs. Margaret Ricardo. She has Alzheimer's and wandered away from home. Her family has been notified but hasn't arrived yet."
The young officer nodded, taking down the information. "We'll get her home safely, ma'am."
Relief washed over me. "Thank you. I need to go, but—"
"You're leaving?" Mrs. Ricardo's eyes widened in alarm. She clutched my hand tighter. "But you must come with me! Lewis will be so disappointed!"
"I'm sorry, but I can't," I said gently, extracting my fingers. "The officer will take good care of you."
As I turned to leave, I felt her hand slip into my pocket. Before I could react, she withdrew, smiling innocently. The officer was already helping her into the patrol car. I checked my pocket—nothing was missing.
I climbed onto my scooter and rode away, puzzled by the whole encounter but grateful it was over.
---
The next morning, Dean Harrison's secretary called, requesting my immediate presence at his office. Her tone set off warning bells in my head.
When I arrived, I found not only the dean waiting but also my sister Isla and my mother, Ivy. Their presence in the dean's office could only mean trouble.
"Miss Johnson, please sit," Dean Harrison said, his face grim.
I took the only remaining seat, directly across from my sister's smug expression.
"I'm afraid I have some difficult news," he continued. "Your postgraduate recommendation has been revoked."
The words hit like a physical blow. "What? On what grounds?"
"It's come to our attention that you've engaged in behavior unbecoming of our institution," he replied stiffly. "Specifically, harassment of a prominent benefactor."
I stared at him in disbelief. "That's absurd. Who am I supposed to have harassed?"
My sister's smile widened. "Nathaniel Ricardo," she answered before the dean could. "You cornered him at Dad's party, claiming to be his wife. Then you followed his grandmother and tried to use her condition to gain access to him."
My head spun. "That's a complete distortion of what happened! I helped an elderly woman in distress—"
"Save it," my mother interrupted coldly. "The Ricardos have filed a formal complaint. Mr. Ricardo was quite clear about your... delusions."
I turned to Dean Harrison. "Sir, this is a complete fabrication. I—"
"I have the complaint right here," he said, tapping a folder. "Along with your withdrawal paperwork."
"My what?"
Ivy leaned forward. "We've already processed your withdrawal from the university, Juliana. It's for the best."
Fury ignited within me. "You have no right to withdraw me from anything! I'm an adult!"
"As your legal guardian—"
"I'm twenty-three years old," I snapped. "You haven't been my legal guardian for five years."
Ivy's face hardened. "As the person paying your tuition—"
"I pay my own tuition," I cut in. "Every cent of it."
The dean looked confused. "Ms. Ollie assured me—"
"She lied," I said flatly. "Check your records. I've been on academic scholarship since freshman year, supplemented by my own payments."
Isla's smug expression faltered slightly.
"Regardless," Dean Harrison said, clearing his throat, "the complaint from the Ricardo family is serious. They've suggested they might reconsider their annual donation if this matter isn't... resolved."
And there it was—the real reason I was being sacrificed. Money.
"This is about silencing me because I discovered I'm legally married to Nathaniel Ricardo," I stated coldly. "A fact I learned at the courthouse yesterday when I went to file my own marriage license."
Ivy laughed harshly. "Such imagination! Nathaniel Ricardo, married to you? The illegitimate daughter with no prospects? You expect anyone to believe that?"
"The records don't lie," I countered.
"Records can be manipulated," Isla said sweetly. "Or misinterpreted by desperate minds."
I turned back to the dean. "Sir, I've maintained a perfect GPA for four years. I've published three papers as an undergraduate. Dr. Thorne personally recommended me for the postgraduate program."
He had the decency to look uncomfortable. "Yes, well... circumstances change."
"You mean money talks," I said coldly.
My mother stood abruptly. "That's quite enough, Juliana. We've already arranged for you to continue your studies abroad. A fresh start, away from these... delusions."
"Abroad? I'm not going anywhere."
"You have no choice," she hissed. "Your visa for Clance has already been processed. You leave tomorrow."
I felt the blood drain from my face. "You're trying to exile me?"
"We're protecting the family reputation," Isla corrected. "And saving you from yourself."
I laughed bitterly. "Let's be honest. You're protecting yourself, Isla. You've always been terrified I might outshine you."
"Me? Afraid of you?" She snorted. "Don't flatter yourself. I'm the one with the perfect GPA, the research grant, and now the special postgraduate admission from Dr. Emma Bella herself."
I froze. "What did you just say?"
Isla's smile turned triumphant. "Oh, didn't you hear? My research on alternative energy sources impressed Dr. Emma Bella so much that she personally recommended me for the advanced program. Quite the honor, considering she never takes students."
The room seemed to tilt sideways. Dr. Emma Bella. My research. My identity.
"That's impossible," I whispered.
"Is it?" Isla pulled out a folder and slid a letter across the table. "Here's her recommendation. She was particularly impressed by my paper on carbon-neutral energy conversion—the one I presented last month."
I stared at the letter, my vision blurring with rage. The research she described—it was mine. Work I had conducted secretly for years under my pseudonym. Work only three people in the world knew was mine.
"How did you get this?" My voice was barely audible.
Isla smirked. "I earned it. While you were wasting time with minimum wage jobs and mediocre grades, I was excelling."
I couldn't breathe. She had stolen my research—my life's work—and was now being rewarded for it. And somehow, she had convinced the real Dr. Emma Bella to endorse her.
Except I was Dr. Emma Bella.
I looked up from the letter into my sister's smug face, a cold clarity washing over me. There was only one explanation: someone had betrayed me. Someone had given Isla access to my research, my identity, my future.
And I had a terrible feeling I knew exactly who it was.