I froze as Mrs. Sterling's wheelchair rolled into the room, Arthur's tall figure looming behind her. The temperature seemed to drop several degrees as realization dawned on Fiona's and Genevieve's faces. The frail woman they'd insulted moments ago wasn't just some confused elderly lady—she was the Sterling family matriarch.
"I—I wasn't talking about you, Mrs. Sterling," Genevieve stammered, her usual confident demeanor crumbling. "I was referring to Elara."
Mrs. Sterling's eyes narrowed. "And what gives you the right to speak to my granddaughter-in-law that way in my home?"
The silence that followed was deafening. Fiona's face turned ashen.
"There's been a misunderstanding," Fiona rushed to explain, shooting me a venomous glare. "Elara's been lying to everyone. She's not married to your grandson. She's just an illegitimate nobody trying to climb the social ladder."
Mrs. Sterling's grip tightened on her armrest. "Is that so?"
