Grandma Faked Dementia So My Sister Could Steal My Fiancé. Chapter 04

Grandma Faked Dementia So My Sister Could Steal My Fiancé. Chapter 04

For the next week, I pretended I hadn’t discovered a thing.

I went through the motions as usual.

Ethan texted me every day.

He asked whether we should change the wedding invitations to a dusty blue.

He asked when we should start shopping for furniture for the condo.

He asked if we should move the down payment into our joint account before applying for the mortgage.

I stared at the words joint account and laughed.

Eighty percent of that money had come from me.

My salary.

My annual bonus.

The money I’d saved by skipping trips, clothes, and even routine checkups.

His contribution? A floor plan and the line, “It’ll all be ours once we’re married.”

I used to think that was sweet.

Now it just sounded calculated.

I replied, “Let’s hold off. A client payment hasn’t cleared yet.”

He answered quickly. “That’s fine. No rush.”

Of course there was no rush.

As long as I stayed in the trap, the money would end up theirs sooner or later.

On Wednesday, I took half a day off and went over the purchase agreement for the condo we’d planned to buy.

It was in my name alone.

Thank God.

I contacted the realtor and backed out. I forfeited a small portion of the earnest money, but the rest came back to my account.

The realtor asked, “Ms. Bennett, are you sure? It’s priced really well for the neighborhood.”

“I’m not getting married.”

She paused, then said quietly, “I’m sorry. That was none of my business.”

As I walked out, I submitted an application to my supervisor.

A short-term overseas project.

I’d always been afraid to take one.

I was afraid Grandma couldn’t manage without me.

Afraid no one would take care of things at home.

Afraid Ethan would think I wasn’t taking our wedding seriously.

Now I wanted it more than anything.

That afternoon, I went home for my documents.

My passport and Social Security card were in a drawer in Diane’s bedroom.

She’d always said they were safer with her.

I searched for a long time before finding them beneath a stack of old insurance policies.

Before I left, I added my birth certificate, diploma, condo paperwork, and bank cards to my bag.

There wasn’t much that was actually mine.

Over the years, I’d handed too much over to my family.

For them to keep for me.

For them to make decisions about.

All because they said, “We’re only doing what’s best for you.”

On Friday night, Lily knocked on my bedroom door.

“Claire, Ethan’s birthday is Sunday. You’re going to be with him, right?”

She stood there in pink pajamas, eyes bright.

I looked at her. “Do you want me to be?”

She blinked. “Of course. He’s your fiance.”

I nodded. “Then let’s all celebrate together.”

Her expression shifted. “All of us?”

“Yeah. Here. With everyone. It’ll be nice.”

She bit her lip. “But maybe Ethan wants it to be just the two of you…”

“I already asked him. He said he’d go with whatever I wanted.”

I hadn’t asked him.

But Lily believed me.

She gave a small “Oh” and went back to her room.

Half an hour later, Ethan called.

His tone was cautious.

“Claire, we’re doing my birthday at your place?”

“Yeah. Didn’t you say you wanted to spend more time with my family?”

He paused.

“Sure. Of course. It’s just… your grandma…”

“It’s fine,” I said. “I’m sure she’ll be perfectly clearheaded that day.”

He went silent.

I heard a lighter click on his end.

Ethan rarely smoked.

Only when he felt guilty.

“Claire, is something going on?”

“No.”

I kept my voice soft. “I just realized the whole family should sit down for dinner before the wedding.”

He murmured his agreement.

Then the call ended.

I opened my laptop and organized every piece of evidence into a timeline.

The house had been busy since early afternoon.

Diane made soup.

Robert bought wine.

Lily changed outfits three times before settling on a pale green dress.

She’d bought that dress the day after I sent her money for “research materials.”

Grandma sat in the living room looking perfectly alert.

When she saw me put the cake in the refrigerator, she asked, “Did you get candles?”

I looked at her. “I did. A three and a one.”

Grandma said automatically, “Thirty-one. Ethan’s old enough to settle down.”

The second the words left her mouth, she realized her mistake and pressed a hand to her forehead.

“There I go again. My mind’s just not right anymore.”

I didn’t call her out.

Ethan arrived at seven.

White shirt, gray jacket, gift bag in hand.

He handed the gift to Diane, then came over to me.

“Thanks for putting all this together.”

I caught a faint trace of perfume on him.

Not the cologne I’d bought him.

It was Lily’s woody perfume.

I stepped back. “Wash your hands. Dinner’s ready.”

At dinner, everyone played their part perfectly.

Diane kept praising Ethan for being thoughtful.

Robert kept saying we’d all be family soon.

Grandma switched between confused and lucid as precisely as if someone were flipping a switch.

Lily sat diagonally across from Ethan, brushing the toe of her shoe against his now and then.

They thought the tablecloth hid it.

I saw everything.

Halfway through dinner, Grandma suddenly clutched her chest and started gasping.

“Claire, don’t go. Don’t leave me…”

Diane immediately set down her fork. “Not again. Claire, help Grandma back to her room.”

Lily stood too. “Claire, go stay with Grandma. I’ll keep Ethan company.”

So practiced.

Everyone knew exactly what to do.

One faked a crisis.

One got me out of the room.

One got the opening she wanted.

Ethan kept his head down and wouldn’t look at me.

I pulled out a napkin and slowly wiped my mouth.

“She doesn’t need any medication.”

Diane snapped, “She’s like this and you still don’t think she needs medicine?”

I said, “She doesn’t have Alzheimer’s. And she’s not having a medical emergency.”