Chapter 7: The Design My Mother Sold
For several seconds, I couldn't speak.
I kept staring at the photograph in Mrs. Collins's hands.
My mother stood beside my father, smiling in front of a fashion studio she had apparently helped build. She looked younger, happier, and completely different from the woman who had just threatened to destroy my dress.
“You were business partners?”” I finally asked.
Mrs. Collins nodded.
“Your father and I started Walker Atelier together. Your mother joined us two years later. She handled contracts, finances, and client relationships.””
“What happened?””
Mrs. Collins looked down at the photograph.
“Your father discovered that one of his original designs had been sold to a competing fashion house.””
“By Mom?””
“She authorized the sale without his permission. Worse, she claimed the design belonged to the company rather than to your father personally.””
I frowned.
“But wouldn't that have been illegal?””
“It violated their partnership agreement. Your father confronted her, and she promised to correct everything. Instead, she transferred the payment through an account nobody knew existed.””
“Did she steal the money?””
Mrs. Collins hesitated.
“Your father believed she had.””
I looked toward the ballroom.
My mother was still speaking to someone on her phone. Her shoulders were rigid, and she kept glancing in our direction.
“Why didn't Dad report her?””
“Because he loved her. And because Brianna was young. He hoped your mother would admit what she'd done and return the money.””
“But she didn't.””
“No.””
Mrs. Collins placed the photograph on the table.
“Your father eventually removed her from the partnership. He also revised the trust so the studio and its original designs would be protected for you.””
I felt a knot forming in my stomach.
“Why me?””
“Because he believed you had inherited his creative instincts. He watched you draw dresses when you were six years old. He used to tell me that you saw possibilities in fabric that other people couldn't see.””
I looked at the pink gown.
For six months, I had thought I was simply making a competition dress.
Now I wondered whether my father had been quietly guiding me toward something much bigger.
“Did Mom know about the trust?””
“Absolutely.””
“Then why did she give Brianna the gown?””
Mrs. Collins lowered her voice.
“Because the original certificate was supposed to be attached to the lining. If she could remove it before the showcase inspection, she might have been able to claim the design as part of the old partnership.””
I swallowed.
“And if Brianna presented it as her own?””
“Your mother could argue that the design was created under her supervision at Walker Atelier.””
I felt sick.
They weren't simply trying to steal my scholarship.
They were trying to erase the evidence that my father had left me his company.
A sudden voice interrupted us.
“That's a very convenient story, Margaret.””
My mother was standing behind us.
Her eyes were red, but her expression was furious.
“Linda,” Mrs. Collins said quietly.
“Don't Linda me. You have spent years waiting for an opportunity to destroy me.””
Mom turned toward me.
“Emily, don't believe her. Margaret has always been jealous of me.””
Mrs. Collins didn't move.
“Then explain the unauthorized sale.””
Mom laughed bitterly.
“Your father was impossible to work with. He made decisions without consulting anyone. He expected me to run the business while he played artist.””
“You signed the partnership agreement,” Mrs. Collins replied.
“And I kept that company alive!””
Mom turned toward me.
“Your father was going to leave us with nothing. Do you understand that? He wanted to hand everything to a seventeen-year-old girl who had never managed a business.””
I stared at her.
“Then why didn't you tell me?””
“Because you wouldn't have understood.””
“You never even gave me a chance.””
Mom's expression softened briefly.
“Emily, sweetheart, I'm still your mother. I was trying to protect you from complicated things.””
“By taking my dress?””
She looked away.
“Brianna needed an opportunity.””
“By forging her signature?””
Mom's jaw tightened.
“Your sister was going to benefit, too.””
Brianna appeared behind her.
“No, Mom. You told me I'd get the studio if I helped you.””
My mother spun around.
“Be quiet.””
Brianna's face crumpled.
“You said Emily would never know about the trust. You said the money was already gone and that this was our only chance.””
I looked at my sister.
“You knew about the money?””
She nodded slowly.
“Not everything. I knew Mom had taken money from the trust, but she told me she'd replaced it.””
Daniel approached with Rachel Morgan.
“Mrs. Walker,” Daniel said, “I think we need to stop discussing this informally.””
Mom glared at him.
“You've already done enough.””
He placed a document on the table.
“This is the original partnership dissolution agreement. Your signature is on page four.””
Mom didn't look at it.
“That's not relevant.””
“It becomes relevant when you claim ownership of designs created after your removal.””
My mother finally looked at the paper.
Her face lost its color.
Then Rachel Morgan spoke.
“Mrs. Walker, we'd like you to accompany us to the conference room. We have additional questions about the financial transfers.””
Mom shook her head.
“I'm not going anywhere without my attorney.””
“That's your right.””
She turned to me.
“Emily, tell them this is a family misunderstanding.””
I stared at her.
“You called my work selfish. You gave away something I spent six months making. You tried to have me disqualified from the competition.””
“I'm your mother!””
“And I was your daughter before I was your competition.””
For the first time, Mom had nothing to say.
Rachel escorted her toward the conference room.
Brianna remained beside the garment bag.
She slowly unzipped it.
The pink satin appeared beneath the hotel lights.
“Emily,” she whispered, “I think you should see something.””
She turned the gown inside out.
The lining was partially detached.
But the concealed pocket was empty.
Someone had removed everything.
My design record.
The signed statement.
The completion date.
All of it was gone.
I felt my knees weaken.
Mrs. Collins examined the seam.
“Who opened this?””
Brianna shook her head.
“Mom's seamstress. She said she was only adjusting the bodice.””
Daniel looked at the damaged lining.
Then he noticed something near the left side seam.
A tiny piece of paper was trapped beneath the stitching.
He carefully pulled it free.
It was a narrow strip, no larger than a postage stamp.
On it were three handwritten words.
Check the roses.
I looked at Mrs. Collins.
Her eyes widened.
May you like
Then she whispered:
“Your father was cleverer than I ever gave him credit for.””
