Chapter 62 The Other Woman
Emily/Evelyn's POV - Safe House, Scottish Highlands - Day 2 of Bed Rest - 2:34 PM
I sat curled up in Adrian's bed, a sketchpad on my lap, my hand moving almost of its own accord.
Lines. Equations. Neural pathway diagrams.
I didn't know where the knowledge was coming from. My hand just... knew what to draw.
Adrian sat beside me, his laptop balanced on his good arm, reviewing files Marcus had sent. We'd fallen into a comfortable silence the kind that only comes when two people stop trying to fill every moment with words.
"This doesn't make sense," Adrian muttered, staring at his screen.
"What?"
"This file Marcus sent. It's about a Dr. Evelyn Grant. Brilliant neuroscientist, published groundbreaking research on memory manipulation, then disappeared four years ago." He looked at me. "Emily some of the equations in her published papers match what you're drawing right now."
My hand froze mid-stroke.
I looked down at the sketchpad. Complex neural diagrams I shouldn't understand but somehow did. Mathematical formulas that felt as natural as breathing.
"That's impossible," I whispered.
"Is it?" Adrian turned the laptop toward me. On the screen was a photo from an academic journal a young woman in a lab coat, maybe twenty-four years old, with sharp eyes and an confident smile.
She looked like me. But not quite. Like looking at a stranger who shared my face.
"Dr. Evelyn Grant," Adrian read. "Age twenty-four at the time of this photo. Youngest person to ever receive a doctorate in neuroscience from MIT. Published seventeen peer-reviewed papers on memory formation and suppression. Then vanished without a trace four years ago, right after her research funding was acquired by—" He stopped.
"Stirling-Hale," I finished numbly.
"Yes."
I stared at the photo. At the woman I might have been. At the brilliant scientist who'd created the very weapon used to destroy her own mind.
"I think—" My voice cracked. "I think I designed Project Tabula Rasa."
Before Adrian could respond, the door burst open.
Marcus stood there, his expression grave. "We have a situation."
"What kind of situation?" Adrian asked.
"The kind that involves a very angry woman currently in our secure conference room demanding to see Adrian Cole." Marcus looked at me. "She says her name is Vanessa Cortez. And she's claiming to be Adrian's fiancée."
The world tilted.
"What?" Adrian and I said simultaneously.
"She arrived twenty minutes ago with a Cole Enterprises security detail and legal documentation proving her identity," Marcus said. "I've been stalling, but she's threatening to call James and Eleanor if you don't see her immediately."
Adrian had gone very pale. "I don't—I don't remember anyone named Vanessa Cortez."
"She seems to remember you," Marcus said. "Quite vividly. She's got photos, texts, emails dating back eighteen months. And—" He paused. "an engagement ring she says you gave her six months ago."
I felt like I'd been punched. "Adrian?"
"I don't remember her," Adrian repeated, his voice rising with panic. "I don't remember proposing to anyone. I don't remember being in a relationship. How is that possible?"
"Conditioning," I said quietly. The pieces were falling into place with horrible clarity. "They didn't just erase three months. They've been manipulating your memories continuously for two years. Adding people, removing people, changing relationships. Making you forget"
"Making me forget I was engaged?" Adrian looked like he might be sick. "Why would they do that?"
"Because," Marcus said grimly, "according to the documentation Ms. Cortez brought, you were planning to merge Cole Enterprises with her family's company through marriage. Cortez Industries. A major deal that would have given the combined company controlling interest in several sectors Stirling-Hale wanted access to."
"So they made me forget her," Adrian said slowly. "Made me forget I was engaged so I wouldn't complete the merger. And then—" He looked at me, horror dawning in his eyes. "and then I met you. Or thought I met you. And we—"
"Slept together," I finished. "While you were engaged to someone else. Except you didn't know you were engaged because they'd erased her from your memory."
The room spun. I gripped the edge of the bed.
"Emily," Adrian reached for me, but I pulled back.
"Don't," I said. "Don't touch me right now. I need to—I need to think."
"There's more," Marcus said reluctantly.
"How could there possibly be more?" Adrian demanded.
"Ms. Cortez is three months pregnant," Marcus said. "And she claims the baby is yours."