Ten Years a Stand-in Wife—Old Money Only Recognizes Me Chapter 12

Ten Years a Stand-in Wife—Old Money Only Recognizes Me Chapter 12

Jenifer lived in a separate two-story house in the back of Shaw Manor.

Eighty-three years old.

Sharp eyes. Sharp mind.

Up at five every morning to exercise, and she could really hold her liquor.

Three generations of the Shaw family-from Adrian’s parents down to Ethan-all respected her.

Not because she was harsh.

But because she was sharp.

She didn’t judge faces.

She judged bones.

The first time she met me was three days after the wedding.

Adrian brought me to the backyard to visit her.

I wore a dress that didn’t quite fit, hair barely done, walking awkwardly in heels that were already

cutting into my skin.

She sat in a rattan chair, reading glasses on, stitching the sole of a cloth shoe.

Eighty-three, still making her own shoes.

You wouldn’t find a second person like that in the entire circle.

She took off her glasses and looked at me.

Just once.

“You’re not Valerie.”

My blood froze for a second.

Adrian stood beside me, silent.

She put her glasses back on and kept stitching.

“Valerie walks like she’s on clouds.”

“You walk like you’re on the ground.”

“Grounded is better.”

Her needle pushed through the fabric with dull, steady sounds.

“What’s your name?”

“Sloane Mercer.”

“Sloane.” She repeated it.

Then she looked up at Adrian.

“You clear on this?”

“I am.”

“Good.”

From that day on, she called me Sloane.

In the entire Shaw family, she was the second person to use my real name.

So today, when Valerie said she wanted to see her-I didn’t stop her.

Couldn’t have, even if I tried.

Valerie had always been decisive.

Back then, she managed to fake a death certificate and disappear to France on her wedding day.

Now, all she had to do was meet an eighty-three-year-old woman.

At 2 p.m., Valerie appeared at the back gate.

Dressed in muted colors, lighter makeup, softer overall.

Deliberate.

I watched from the second-floor window as she rang the bell.

Ten minutes later, Nancy came upstairs.

“Mrs. Shaw, Jenifer said-you don’t need to come down.”

“Alright.”

I sat by the window, flipping through an auction catalog.

The window was cracked open. Voices drifted up from below, broken by the wind.

Valerie spoke first.

Her voice carried just the right amount of tremor.

“Jenifer… I’m sorry to the Shaw family.”

“I was young back then. Afraid of marriage, afraid of responsibility-I know I was wrong.”

“But Ethan is my child. I can’t just abandon him—”

“I want to make things right. Please give me a chance.”

A pause.

Then the old lady’s voice.

Slow.

Steady.

Like stone in winter.

“Valerie.”

“Yes?”

“You say you were afraid of marriage. Let me ask you something.”

“When you left, how many people were with you?”

Valerie hesitated. “…What do you mean?”

“The fake death certificate-did you handle that alone? The plane ticket-did you buy it alone? When you got to France, did you live alone?”

Silence below.

So quiet I could almost hear petals hitting the ground.

The old lady continued.

“I’ve lived eighty-three years. I’ve seen people afraid of marriage, people who run from it, people

who regret it.”

“Those who are afraid talk to others.”

“Those who run leave a note.”

“But you? You forged a death certificate.”

“You made everyone believe you were dead.”

“Your fiancé held a one-month-old baby and identified a ‘body’ in the morgue for an hour.”

“Only to find out it was fake.”

“You weren’t afraid, Valerie.”

“You planned it.”

A choked sob rose from below.

Valerie was crying.

Jenifer’s voice didn’t soften.

“The two kinds of people I hate most in this life-liars, and those who scheme and then play

pitiful.”

“You’re both.”

“Jenifer-”

“Leave.”

“I don’t want to see you.”

“Not now. Not ever.”

The door opened.

Then closed.

Heels struck stone, uneven, fading into the distance.

I set the catalog down.

Outside, the flowers trembled in the breeze.

The sunlight was bright.

Her voice floated up again.

“Sloane.”

I leaned out the window. “Yes, Jenifer?”

“Come down. Have some coffee with me.”