Chapter 3: The Signature on the Missing Money
The ballroom erupted in whispers.
I stood at the end of the runway, still wearing my mother's flowers, while my father stared at the document in Eleanor's hand.
Vanessa grabbed his arm.
“Richard, sit down. You're making a scene.””
He pulled away.
“Not now, Vanessa.””
Her eyes widened.
I had never heard him speak to her that way.
Eleanor walked toward the judges' table and placed three pages beneath the overhead lights.
“These are bank transfers made from Claire Carter's trust account,” she announced.
“The account was established to protect her intellectual property and fund the development of her design studio.””
I frowned.
“My mother had a trust?””
Eleanor looked at me.
“Yes, Emily. A substantial one.””
My knees felt weak.
“How substantial?””
“Enough to support your education, preserve her studio, and provide for your future.””
The room seemed to tilt.
I turned toward my father.
“Dad?””
He didn't answer.
Vanessa stepped forward.
“This is all being taken out of context. Claire's business was failing. Richard had to manage her affairs after she died.””
Eleanor didn't even look at her.
“That's not what these documents show.””
She lifted one page.
“Over a period of ten years, money was transferred out of Claire's trust into several accounts. Some were associated with real estate developments. Others were connected to a private company.””
My father reached for the papers.
Eleanor pulled them away.
“You had your opportunity to explain this privately.””
“You don't know what you're talking about,” Dad said.
“Then tell us what the signatures mean.””
She placed the final page in front of him.
My father's signature appeared at the bottom.
Richard Carter.
I stared at it.
It was unmistakably his handwriting.
“That's your signature,” I whispered.
He looked at me.
“Emily, listen to me.””
“Was my mother's money in that account?””
“It's complicated.””
“Did you take it?””
Vanessa stepped between us.
“Your father was handling complicated financial matters while raising two children. You have no idea how much pressure he was under.””
I looked at her.
“You knew?””
She pressed her lips together.
“Be careful how you speak to me.””
That answer told me more than a confession could have.
Eleanor turned toward my father.
“Claire asked me to make sure her daughter received the education she deserved. I promised her I would.””
My eyes burned.
“You knew my mother?””
Eleanor's expression softened.
“I did. She was one of the most talented designers I ever encountered. We met at a charity exhibition when she was twenty-four. She had made a collection out of discarded fabrics, and I remember thinking she saw beauty where everyone else saw waste.””
She paused.
“She was supposed to come work with me. Then she became ill, and everything changed.””
I touched the red flowers on my gown.
“Why didn't she tell me about the trust?””
“She may have believed your father would protect it.””
I felt something crack inside me.
My mother had trusted him.
I had trusted him.
And when the paint spilled across my dress, he had looked at me as though I were the problem.
Dad lowered his voice.
“Emily, we need to discuss this at home.””
“No. I think we've been discussing everything at home for too long.””
Vanessa's cheeks flushed.
“This is a family matter. You don't have the right to embarrass us in public.””
I looked at the red paint still visible between the flowers.
“You embarrassed me this morning when you destroyed my mother's work.””
A few people in the audience murmured.
Vanessa raised her chin.
“You should be grateful your father has supported you all these years.””
“Supported me with what? The money that belonged to my mother?””
Her mouth opened.
Nothing came out.
A commotion sounded near the side entrance.
Someone called my name.
“Emily!””
I turned.
Daniel rushed into the ballroom, his shirt covered in dust. He looked as though he'd been digging through an old basement.
He pushed through the guests, holding something in his hand.
“Em, we found it.””
I stepped off the runway.
“Found what?””
Daniel glanced at our father.
Then at Vanessa.
His expression changed.
“Mom's studio.””
“What about it?””
“There's a hidden room underneath it.””
My father went completely still.
Vanessa dropped her clutch.
Eleanor whispered something I couldn't hear.
Daniel held up a small brass key.
I recognized it immediately.
It was the same style as the key Mom had used to lock her sewing cabinet.
“Where did you find that?”” I asked.
“Behind the old cutting table. There was a loose floorboard. I moved it, and there was a staircase underneath.””
Dad took one step toward him.
“Daniel, give me that key.””
My brother backed away.
“No.””
“That's private property.””
“It's Mom's property,” Daniel replied.
My father’s jaw tightened.
“Don't make this worse.””
Daniel looked at me.
“You need to see what's down there.””
I followed his gaze to the key.
“What did you find?””
He swallowed.
“Boxes. Dozens of them. They're full of children's dresses, Emily. Every single one has your name on the label.””
I frowned.
“My name?””
“Your name, your birth date, and a number.””
Eleanor covered her mouth.
Daniel continued.
“And there's a locked metal box on the desk. It has a note taped to it.””
He turned the key over in his palm.
“What does the note say?”” I asked.
Daniel's voice dropped to a whisper.
“Open if Richard ever lies.””
The room went silent.
My father lunged forward.
“Daniel, don't you dare!””
But Daniel stepped behind me.
For the first time in my life, I stood between my father and something he desperately wanted to hide.
Eleanor approached us.
“Richard,” she said quietly, “what is in that box?””
He didn't answer.
Vanessa looked from him to me, then suddenly grabbed her handbag and headed toward the ballroom doors.
I caught her wrist.
“Where are you going?””
“Let go of me!””
“You haven't answered a single question.””
She twisted free.
“You don't understand what your mother was involved in.””
I felt the words hit me harder than the paint had.
“What was she involved in?””
Vanessa stared at me.
Then she glanced at my father.
And in that split second, I realized they were both afraid of the same thing.
Daniel tightened his grip on the brass key.
“Emily,” he whispered, “there's something else you should know.””
I turned toward him.
“The dresses aren't all yours.””
He looked down at the key.
“One of the labels has another girl's name on it.””
May you like
Before I could ask who, my father spoke in a voice I had never heard before.
“Because that girl was never supposed to find out she had a sister.””
