My Mother Stole the Wedding Dress I Spent Six Months Sewing for My Eye Surgery—Then One Question at the Competition Made My Sister Turn Pale

I stared at the contract on Maya's phone.

The company listed as the buyer was Bennett Heritage Holdings.

Arthur Bennett's name appeared beneath the company logo.

But Arthur had told me he wanted to protect Grandma's legacy.

Why would he be involved in buying the very collection my mother was trying to sell?

“Where did you get this?”” I asked Maya.

She glanced nervously at Patricia.

“Mom sent it to me last night. She said I needed to sign something before the competition ended.””

My mother lunged toward the phone.

“Give me that!””

Maya pulled it away.

“No! You told me this was a partnership agreement!””

Patricia's face hardened.

“Lower your voice.””

“You said I'd own half the company!””

“Not here, Maya.””

I looked at the contract again.

The proposed sale price was $850,000.

The assets included all twelve designs from Grandma's unfinished collection, the original pattern archive, and the exclusive rights to the Eleanor Parker name.

My stomach turned.

“You were going to sell everything?””

Patricia stared at me.

“You don't understand how business works.””

“You were selling something that doesn't belong to you.””

“I raised you! I sacrificed everything for this family!””

“You sacrificed my future.””

She slapped the contract out of Maya's hand.

The papers scattered across the floor.

Denise quickly collected them.

“Mrs. Parker, I'd strongly advise you to stop interfering with the investigation.””

My mother pointed at me.

“This is her fault. She should have stayed out of things she doesn't understand.””

Evelyn Bennett stepped forward.

“Patricia, I've known you for more than twenty years. Don't pretend this began today.””

My mother turned toward her.

“You have no idea what my mother put me through.””

Evelyn's expression softened, but her voice remained firm.

“Perhaps not. But I know what Eleanor gave you. And I know what you took from her.””

The lawyer representing the trust asked everyone to remain available for further questioning.

I stepped into the corridor, needing air.

Maya followed.

“Olivia, wait.””

I turned.

She was crying.

“I didn't know she was selling the archive.””

“You knew you were wearing my dress.””

“I know.””

“You lied to the judges.””

“I know.””

“You watched her tell me I wasn't capable of designing anymore.””

Maya lowered her head.

“I thought if I won, everything would finally be different.””

I looked at her.

“Different how?””

She wiped her cheeks.

“Mom always said you were Grandma's favorite. She said Grandma wanted you to inherit everything because she felt sorry for you.””

I stared at her.

“Grandma never made me feel sorry for myself.””

Maya shook her head.

“She said I needed to win something of my own. That I couldn't keep living in your shadow.””

I felt a bitter laugh rise in my throat.

“So you stole my work to prove you weren't in my shadow?””

She didn't answer.

I turned away.

“I'm not going to pretend this didn't happen just because you're crying.””

Maya caught my sleeve.

“Please. I need to tell you something.””

I stopped.

“The night Mom took your dress, she told me it was already hers. She said Grandma had left it to her before she died.””

“That's a lie.””

“I know that now.””

She took a breath.

“But there's something else. Mom has been meeting a man named Richard for months. He told her he could help her get the archive.””

My heart skipped.

“Richard who?””

“Richard Bennett.””

I stared at her.

“Arthur's brother?””

Maya nodded.

“He came to our house several times. He had old photographs and documents. Mom said they were going to rebuild Grandma's fashion company together.””

Everything suddenly became more complicated.

Arthur had told me about a former business partner who disappeared after a dispute.

Richard Bennett.

The man who had supposedly been gone for twenty-two years.

I pulled out my phone and called Arthur.

He answered immediately.

“Olivia?””

“Did you know Richard was involved?””

There was a long silence.

“Where did you hear that name?””

“My sister showed me a purchase agreement. Bennett Heritage Holdings is buying Grandma's collection tomorrow.””

Arthur exhaled sharply.

“I was afraid of this.””

“Who is Richard?””

“My younger brother.””

I closed my eyes.

“What did he do?””

Arthur's voice became quieter.

“Twenty-two years ago, Richard and Patricia tried to remove Eleanor from her own company. They wanted to sell the designs to a major fashion house without her permission.””

I gripped the phone.

“And Grandma stopped them?””

“She discovered their agreement and canceled the transaction. Richard disappeared afterward. Patricia stayed in Atlanta and eventually married your father.””

I looked back through the glass doors.

My mother was speaking angrily to the lawyer.

“Why didn't you tell me?””

“Because I didn't know he had returned. And because your grandmother begged me not to involve you unless it became necessary.””

I swallowed.

“Arthur, what was the original dispute about?””

He hesitated.

“Richard believed he deserved half of Eleanor's business. He claimed he had created the butterfly signature and several of the collection's most valuable patterns.””

“But Grandma said she created it with Grandpa.””

“She did. And Richard knew it.””

I looked down at the contract photograph.

The sale was scheduled for the next morning.

“What happens if they complete the transaction?””

“They can't legally transfer the trust's assets. But Richard may be trying to obtain the original documents before the trust can secure them.””

“Where are those documents?””

Arthur paused.

Then he said something that made my heart pound.

“Your mother's house.””

I looked through the glass doors again.

Patricia had stopped arguing.

She was watching me.

And she knew I'd discovered something.

Arthur continued.

“Olivia, there's a locked cabinet in Eleanor's old studio. Your mother has kept the key for years. If Richard has been helping her, I suspect the original archive is still inside.””

I whispered, “Then we need to get there.””

“Not without legal protection,” Arthur warned.

But before I could respond, my mother walked straight toward me.

She held out her hand.

“Give me the phone.””

I stepped backward.

“No.””

Her expression changed.