Chapter 2: The Woman With the Leather Portfolio
“Who filed the complaint?”” I asked.
Principal Harris adjusted his glasses.
“I'm not authorized to discuss another student's application in the hallway.””
“Then let's go somewhere you are authorized to discuss it.””
Brooke stepped forward.
“There's no need to make this complicated. Madison submitted her own original design.””
I turned toward her.
“Your daughter told you to stop cutting Lily's costume.””
“Children say all sorts of things when they're upset.””
Madison's face had gone pale.
“Mom, I didn't—”
“Not another word,” Brooke snapped.
The principal frowned.
“Mrs. Walker, I need you to come to my office.””
“Why? I've done nothing wrong.””
“Then you shouldn't have anything to worry about.””
For once, someone had said exactly what I was thinking.
Mother grabbed my elbow.
“Emily, please. We can handle this privately. There is no reason to involve the school administration.””
I pulled my arm away.
“Privately? Lily's costume was destroyed in a public hallway.””
“You're embarrassing your sister.””
“No, Mom. Brooke did that herself.””
Dad stepped between us.
“Your mother is trying to keep this family together.””
I stared at him.
“Then maybe you should have tried keeping your granddaughter safe.””
His mouth opened, but no words came out.
I followed the principal toward his office, leaving Brooke behind with Madison. As I passed the auditorium, I saw children carrying cardboard dragons, handmade fairy wings, and miniature suits of armor.
Lily sat beside her teacher, holding a plastic cup of water.
She looked up when she saw me.
“Mommy?””
I hurried over and knelt beside her.
“The principal needs to sort something out, sweetheart. But you haven't done anything wrong.””
“Am I disqualified?””
“Not if I can help it.””
She looked down at the ruined wing in her lap.
“I should've hidden my notebook.””
The words made my stomach twist.
“Why would you say that?””
“Because the picture disappeared last week. I thought maybe I had left it somewhere.””
I stopped breathing for a moment.
“What picture, honey?””
“The first butterfly drawing. The one with Daddy's little note on the back.””
I remembered that note. Daniel had written it in blue ink beneath Lily's original sketch: Keep making beautiful things, little butterfly.
I had seen the drawing in her bedroom only days earlier.
“Did you tell your teacher?””
Lily shook her head.
“I didn't want Grandma to get mad. She said I should stop accusing people.””
I looked toward the hallway.
My mother stood near the entrance, speaking urgently to Brooke.
Neither of them was looking at Lily.
I kissed my daughter's forehead.
“You never have to protect grown-ups from the consequences of their choices.””
Then I went into the principal's office.
A few minutes later, Principal Harris placed a printed complaint on his desk.
The accusation claimed that Lily had copied a costume design submitted by Madison Walker. It included photographs of the butterfly wings and a declaration that the concept had originated with Madison.
The submission timestamp was 8:14 that morning.
The school competition began at one.
Someone had filed the complaint hours before the costume was destroyed.
“Did the committee investigate this?”” I asked.
“The foundation flagged inconsistencies in the paperwork,” Principal Harris replied.
“We were asked to preserve the evidence while they reviewed it.””
“Then why is my daughter being questioned?””
“We have not formally questioned her.””
“Yet someone has already destroyed her costume.””
His face tightened.
“I understand your concern, Mrs. Carter.””
“No. You understand a complaint has been filed. My daughter is nine years old, and she's sitting outside wondering if she did something wrong.””
He looked down at the document.
“I'm sorry.””
For the first time that afternoon, someone had apologized without asking me to calm down afterward.
A sharp knock interrupted us.
A school secretary opened the door.
“Principal Harris? A Victoria Harrison is here. She says she's with the Chicago Young Designers Foundation.””
I stood immediately.
“Please bring her in.””
Thirty minutes after my call, a black SUV had pulled up outside Jefferson Elementary. Victoria Harrison entered the office carrying a dark leather portfolio.
She was in her fifties, with silver-streaked hair and the composed expression of someone accustomed to making difficult decisions.
When she saw me, her face softened.
“Emily.””
Then she noticed the paint on my sleeve.
“Where's Lily?””
“Outside with her teacher.””
Victoria set down her portfolio.
“Take me to her.””
We found Lily sitting on a bench, carefully folding the surviving pieces of blue fabric so they wouldn't wrinkle any further.
Victoria knelt in front of her.
“Hello, Lily. Do you remember our video call?””
Lily nodded.
“You showed me the butterfly drawing.””
“That's right.”” Victoria smiled gently.
“And I told you how much I loved the way you'd designed the wings.””
Lily swallowed.
“But I don't have them anymore.””
Victoria's smile disappeared.
She examined the torn fabric without touching it.
“Who did this?””
I pointed toward the auditorium.
“My sister.””
Victoria stood slowly.
“Please show me where it happened.””
When we returned to the hallway, Brooke was waiting beside my parents. She immediately brightened at the sight of Victoria.
“Mrs. Harrison! What a surprise.
I'm Brooke Walker. My daughter Madison is competing today.””
Victoria gave her a brief nod.
“I know who you are.””
Brooke's smile widened.
“Madison has a wonderful princess costume. We invested quite a bit in it, and she deserves to be recognized.””
Victoria glanced at the dress.
“Did you make it?””
“Well, we worked together as a family.””
Madison stared at the floor.
Victoria turned toward the ruined butterfly wings.
“Emily says you cut these.””
Brooke laughed nervously.
“It was a misunderstanding. The girls were arguing, and I was trying to prevent a scene.””
“You brought scissors?””
“I had them in my bag.””
“And the paint?””
Brooke hesitated.
“I don't see why this needs to become a public spectacle.””
Victoria opened her portfolio.
“Because Lily's butterfly design was selected from more than three thousand submissions for our Young Creators scholarship showcase.””
Mother's hand flew to her mouth.
Victoria removed a photograph of Lily's original costume.
The wings glowed beneath soft blue lights. Tiny silver details traced the veins, and the skirt was layered with fabric Lily had dyed herself.
“Only twelve designs were selected,” Victoria continued.
“The winner receives a $25,000 education award and a place in our annual youth exhibition.””
Brooke stared at the photograph.
“That's impossible.””
Victoria raised an eyebrow.
“Why?””
“She's nine!””
“Talent doesn't have an age requirement.””
Dad shifted his weight.
Mother suddenly looked very interested in the floor.
Brooke recovered first.
“Madison is also competing. I'm sure there's been some administrative mistake.””
Victoria pulled another sheet from the portfolio.
“Actually, that's why I'm here.””
She placed the complaint on the table.
“Someone submitted a claim accusing Lily of stealing Madison's design.””
Brooke's expression hardened.
“Exactly. So perhaps you should be investigating Emily's daughter instead of accusing me.””
Victoria looked directly at her.
“We are investigating the claim.””
She placed two registration records side by side.
Lily's original design had been registered three months earlier.
Madison's application had been submitted the previous afternoon.
Then Victoria showed us the photograph attached to Madison's application.
I recognized it immediately.
It was Lily's missing sketch.
The same drawing with Daniel's handwritten note on the back.
My fingers went numb.
“Brooke,” I whispered.
“Where did you get that?””
She grabbed Madison's hand.
“Emily, don't you dare accuse me of stealing anything.””
But before I could answer, Madison began to cry.
“Mom, please. I told you we shouldn't have taken Lily's notebook.””
The hallway fell silent.
Brooke spun toward her daughter.
“Madison, shut your mouth!””
Madison jerked her hand away.
“Grandma gave Mom the key to Aunt Emily's house!””
I turned toward my mother.
She stood frozen, her face drained of color.
“Mom,” I said quietly.
“Why did Brooke have a key to my house?””
Mother opened her mouth.
Nothing came out.
Victoria studied the photograph again, then slowly removed another document from the portfolio.
“Emily, there's something else you need to see.””
She turned the page toward me.
At the bottom was my mother's signature.
And above it was a declaration claiming that Daniel had transferred ownership of Lily's creative work to Brooke's family before he died.
My knees nearly gave way.
“That's impossible,” I whispered.
“Daniel never signed anything like that.””
Victoria's expression grew grave.
“Our legal department has already examined the supporting authorization.””
May you like
She turned to the final page.
“Emily, the document was notarized by your father.””
