I stared at the marriage certificate in my hands, the gold embossing catching the light as my fingers trembled. This couldn't be real. How could I be married to Arthur Sterling without any memory of it?
"This is impossible," I finally said, breaking the heavy silence that had fallen over the room.
Arthur's face had hardened into an impenetrable mask. "Where exactly did these come from, Grandmother?" His voice was controlled but tight with tension.
Mrs. Sterling smiled, seemingly oblivious to our distress. "I told you, dear. They arrived by mail after your registration. I kept them safe, knowing they'd be important one day."
I examined the certificate more closely. My name—Elara Dubois—was printed neatly beside Arthur Sterling's. The date showed we'd been married for five years. Five years! The official seal looked authentic, right down to the watermark.
"Do you remember anything else about the wedding?" I asked carefully, watching the old woman's face.
