Chapter 3: The Secret My Father Left Behind
I didn't answer the man immediately.
I stared at his business card.
Daniel Reed.
Estate Attorney.
“Why does my mother want to know about the pocket?”” I asked.
Daniel glanced toward the alterations shop.
“I think this conversation would be better somewhere private.””
“Then you should talk to my mother.””
He gave me a tired smile.
“I've tried. She refuses to discuss the original agreement.””
“What agreement?””
His expression changed.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he looked at me carefully.
“Emily, did your father ever tell you that he had a separate inheritance arrangement for your creative work?””
I felt the air leave my lungs.
“My father died three years ago.””
“I know.””
“He never mentioned an inheritance arrangement.””
Daniel reached into his briefcase and removed a folded document.
“I was instructed to keep this until you turned seventeen.””
My birthday had been six months earlier.
He handed me the paper.
At the top was my father's name.
THOMAS WALKER.
Beneath it was a date.
Three days after his death.
I looked at Daniel.
“That's impossible. My father was already gone.””
“The document was prepared before his death but formally signed and witnessed afterward under instructions he left with his estate administrator.””
I unfolded the paper.
The first paragraph referred to a collection of original design materials and intellectual property.
The second paragraph mentioned a beneficiary.
My name.
Emily Rose Walker.
I read the sentence twice.
Then I noticed the final page.
There was a reference to a concealed design record attached to a garment made by the beneficiary before her eighteenth birthday.
My hands began to shake.
“Why is this connected to my dress?””
Daniel looked toward the road.
“Because your father anticipated that someone might attempt to claim ownership of your work.””
I swallowed.
“Who?””
He didn't answer.
Instead, he asked, “Do you still have the original pink gown?””
“No. My mother gave it to my sister.””
Daniel closed his eyes briefly.
“Then we need to get it back before the gala.””
I stepped away from the car.
“Tell me what's happening.””
“Emily, I can't explain the entire arrangement without reviewing the original document and the attached materials. But I can tell you one thing.””
He lowered his voice.
“The person who controls the original design record may have rights that your mother doesn't understand.””
I thought about Mrs. Collins's warning.
The pocket.
The lining.
My father's signature.
“Did you know my mother visited the alterations shop?””
Daniel looked surprised.
“No.””
“She asked whether the lining could be removed.””
His face turned pale.
“Then she knows.””
“Knows what?””
He placed the document back inside his briefcase.
“Don't let anyone remove that lining. Not your sister. Not your mother. Not even someone claiming to represent me.””
I stepped backward.
“Why should I trust you?””
“You shouldn't,” he said quietly.
“Not until you verify everything.””
He handed me another card.
“This is my office number. Call me after you speak to Mrs. Collins.””
Then he drove away.
I returned to the shop.
Mrs. Collins was standing behind the counter, examining a piece of lace.
When she saw my face, she immediately put it down.
“What happened?””
I told her everything.
She listened without interrupting.
When I finished, she walked into the office and shut the door.
“Emily, I need to ask you something.””
“What?””
“Has anyone besides you ever opened the concealed pocket?””
“No.””
“Did your father help you make it?””
I hesitated.
Then I remembered the winter afternoon when Dad had sat beside me at the kitchen table.
I had been fifteen, working on a tiny embroidered flower.
He had been holding an old leather folder.
“Daddy, what are you doing?””
“Keeping something safe.””
“What?””
“Something that belongs to you.””
He had smiled and tapped the folder.
I remembered him asking me to promise that I would never let anyone throw away my original sketches.
I had thought he was simply encouraging my hobby.
But now I wasn't sure.
“He knew about the pocket,” I whispered.
Mrs. Collins sat down.
“Then we need to find out what he put there.””
“I already know what's inside. My name, the completion date, and the design record.””
“Are you certain?””
I nodded.
“I put those things there myself.””
Mrs. Collins studied me.
“Then why would your mother be so interested in removing the lining?””
I had no answer.
At four that afternoon, I received a message from Brianna.
It contained a photograph.
She was standing in front of a full-length mirror wearing my pink gown.
Her hair was styled in loose curls, and the dress fit her perfectly.
Underneath, she had written:
Final fitting. You should see how beautiful your creation looks on someone who actually deserves it.
I zoomed in on the photograph.
Something was wrong.
The bodice looked slightly different.
The inner seam beneath the left arm was uneven.
I enlarged the image further.
There was a small gap in the lining.
Someone had started opening it.
My phone rang immediately.
It was Brianna.
I answered.
“What did you do to the dress?””
She laughed.
“Hello to you, too.””
“Why is the lining coming apart?””
“Mom said it needed adjusting.””
“Don't touch that pocket.””
There was silence.
Then Brianna spoke slowly.
“What pocket?””
My stomach dropped.
“Brianna, listen to me. Whatever Mom tells you, don't let anyone remove the lining.””
She laughed again, but this time it sounded forced.
“You're acting crazy.””
“I'm serious.””
“Is this some kind of trick? Are you trying to sabotage the gala?””
“No. I just want my dress back.””
“Your dress?”” she snapped.
“You mean my dress?””
I heard a man's voice in the background.
“Brianna, the seamstress is ready.””
My sister lowered her voice.
“Look, Emily. Mom says there's something inside this dress that could cause a huge problem if it gets out.””
My heart began pounding.
“What did she tell you?””
“She said Dad left something that wasn't supposed to belong to you.””
I couldn't move.
Brianna continued.
“And apparently, if we don't find it before the gala, Mom could lose everything.””
Then the call disconnected.
I stood frozen in the middle of the shop.
Mrs. Collins came out of the office.
“Emily?””
I showed her my phone.
She read the message transcript and slowly removed her glasses.
“Your mother knows exactly what she's looking for.””
Before I could respond, an email notification appeared.
It was from Daniel Reed.
The subject line read:
*URGENT — YOUR FATHER'S ORIGINAL INHERITANCE AGREEMENT.*
I opened it.
There was one attachment.
A scanned photograph of the document my mother had been holding in the picture sent to me the previous night.
But this time, the entire page was visible.
At the bottom was my father's signature.
Above it was a clause I had never seen before.
Upon the beneficiary's seventeenth birthday, the concealed original document shall establish the transfer of all rights, assets, and proceeds associated with the Walker Design Trust.
I read the sentence again.
Then I noticed the second signature.
It belonged to my mother.
And beneath it, in handwriting I recognized immediately, were five words:
I agree to keep it safe.
I stared at the screen.
My mother hadn't simply given Brianna my dress.
She had given her the one thing that could expose a secret our family had been hiding for three years.
May you like
And according to Daniel's final message, the pink gown contained only the first piece of evidence.
*The real question was why my mother had been so desperate to make sure I never found the rest.*
