Chapter 12: The Night Before the Final
I watched Brianna's video three more times.
The last sentence echoed in my head.
Make sure of it.
Martin wasn't merely planning to steal my work. He was still trying to prevent me from competing at all.
I sent the video to Detective Mills and Paul Bennett.
Then I called Mrs. Alvarez.
"Can you keep my gown at the shop tonight?""
"Of course," she said.
"What's happened?""
I explained the video.
Her voice hardened.
"Bring the dress here immediately. Don't leave it unattended for even a minute.""
I packed the wine-red gown into its garment bag and left the house.
My father stood in the hallway.
"Where are you going?""
"Somewhere safe.""
"Nia, please let me help.""
I looked at him.
"You had five years to help Mom. You had four months to help me. You chose not to.""
His shoulders sagged.
"I know.""
"Then stop asking me to make you feel better.""
I walked out.
At Mrs. Alvarez's shop, we placed the gown inside a locked display cabinet in the back room. She checked every seam, every fastening, and every inch of the repaired hem.
Then she handed me a small sewing kit.
"Keep this with you tomorrow.""
I frowned.
"Why?""
"Because every designer should be prepared to repair her own work.""
I smiled faintly.
"Mom used to say that.""
"Your mother taught me a few things, too.""
She returned to the cutting table.
"Now go home and sleep.""
"I can't.""
"Then at least sit down before you fall over.""
I obeyed.
For the next hour, I reviewed my presentation notes. I would explain the gown's construction, the symbolism of the roses, and the way the layered satin represented the process of rebuilding something beautiful after it had been damaged.
I wouldn't mention Martin's threats unless the judges asked.
I wouldn't turn my mother's death into a performance.
I would present the work on its own merits.
At nine thirty, Jasmine arrived carrying a paper bag.
"Emergency supplies," she announced.
Inside were sandwiches, bottled water, and a box of chocolate cookies.
"You know what every fashion crisis needs?"" she asked.
"An emergency sewing kit?""
"Chocolate.""
I laughed.
For a few minutes, we ate at the worktable and talked about ordinary things. Her upcoming exams. My plans for New York if I won. The ridiculous price of rent in Manhattan.
Then Jasmine became serious.
"Are you afraid?""
"Yes.""
"Of losing?""
I considered the question.
"I'm afraid they'll hurt someone else to keep the truth hidden.""
She reached across the table and took my hand.
"Then we make sure the truth isn't hidden anymore.""
At eleven, Paul arrived with news.
"Detective Mills has secured the original vehicle records," he said.
"The mechanic's statement matches several details in your mother's archive.""
"What happens now?""
"The authorities are investigating Martin's role in the accident. They're also examining the financial transfers and forged contracts.""
"Will he be arrested?""
"Not tonight. They need to verify the evidence and establish exactly what happened.""
I nodded.
I understood.
I couldn't demand that the law move faster simply because my heart was breaking.
Paul placed another document on the table.
"Eleanor Whitmore sent this.""
It was a certified copy of the original exhibition catalog, accompanied by her signed statement.
The catalog listed my mother as the sole creator of The Unforgotten Garden.
Every gown had been photographed and described in detail.
The red evening gown appeared on page seventeen.
Its name was written beneath the image.
*The Rose After Winter.*
I traced the words with my finger.
"That's what Mom called it.""
Paul nodded.
"Eleanor also included the original registration date. It predates Martin's claimed ownership by eleven months.""
For the first time that day, hope felt solid enough to hold.
"Will the competition accept it?""
"They'll have to consider it.""
I looked toward the locked cabinet.
"Then tomorrow, I'll wear the gown.""
Paul hesitated.
"There's something else.""
He placed a photograph beside the catalog.
It showed Martin Hale leaving a private meeting with the competition director that afternoon. The director held a large envelope bearing the competition's official seal.
"What is that?"" I asked.
"We don't know yet. But the director has refused to respond to Detective Mills's request for the original scholarship agreement.""
I frowned.
"Why would he refuse?""
"Because the agreement may contain information he doesn't want investigators to see.""
Paul handed me a second photograph.
This one showed Brianna entering Martin's office carrying a garment bag.
The timestamp was less than an hour old.
My stomach tightened.
"She's taking him my dress.""
"Possibly.""
"Or he's giving her something.""
Paul studied the image.
"Either way, don't approach them alone.""
I nodded.
Before he left, he turned toward me.
"Your mother was brave, Nia. But bravery doesn't mean walking into danger without protection. If anything suspicious happens tomorrow, leave the room and contact the authorities.""
"I will.""
After midnight, Jasmine drove me home to collect my school uniform and the presentation folder I needed for the competition.
The house was dark.
I slipped inside and headed toward the stairs.
Then I heard voices in the dining room.
Vanessa was speaking.
"Martin promised Brianna would win. If Nia presents that certificate, the entire arrangement falls apart.""
My father answered.
"Then we should tell the truth before it gets worse.""
Vanessa laughed bitterly.
"Tell the truth? You accepted his money. You signed the agreement. You're as involved as I am.""
"I never wanted anyone hurt.""
"But you let it happen.""
Silence followed.
Then Dad spoke again.
"Martin said the mechanic would take care of the car. He said it was only supposed to frighten her into withdrawing the complaint.""
My blood turned to ice.
Vanessa whispered, "David, stop talking.""
But he continued.
"I didn't know the brakes would fail completely. I swear I didn't.""
I pressed my hand against the wall.
My father had known about the plan to tamper with my mother's car.
Perhaps he hadn't intended her death.
But he had helped create the circumstances that led to it.
My phone was already recording.
Then Vanessa said the words that made my knees weaken.
"And if Nia finds out what happened after the accident, she'll never forgive either of us.""
I leaned closer.
"What happened after the accident?"" I whispered.
A floorboard creaked beneath my foot.
The voices stopped.
The dining-room door swung open.
My father stood in the doorway, staring directly at me.
His face drained of color when he saw the phone in my hand.
"Nia," he whispered.
"How much did you hear?""
I held up the recording.
"Enough.""
He took a step toward me.
"Please. Let me explain.""
I backed away.
"Did Martin cause the accident?""
Dad's mouth trembled.
"I don't know.""
"Did you know he was going to tamper with the car?""
He closed his eyes.
"Yes.""
"And what happened after the accident?""
He opened his mouth.
Before he could answer, someone pounded on the front door.
Three sharp knocks.
Then Detective Mills's voice rang through the hallway.
"David Carter? Open the door. We have a warrant to search this property.""
My father looked at me.
For the first time in my life, he seemed more frightened of the truth than he was of losing me.
And from inside the dining room, Vanessa whispered a name I had never heard before.
"Daniel.""
Dad spun around.
"Don't you dare bring him into this.""
But it was too late.
May you like
I had heard the name.
And somehow, I knew that Daniel was the missing piece of my mother's final night.
