Chapter 11: Patricia Wells Finally Shows Her Face
The storage facility sat behind an industrial park outside Atlanta.
Gray metal buildings stretched across the property, each marked with a number. Security cameras watched the entrance, and a chain-link fence surrounded the entire complex.
Evelyn Brooks met us there with two investigators.
My father and Vanessa were required to accompany the investigation.
Brianna had been left with a relative after giving an initial statement about the competition application.
Maya insisted on coming with me.
"I've stood beside you through every part of this," she said.
"I'm not leaving now.""
I squeezed her hand.
Evelyn approached the main gate.
"Unit 214. That's where the delivery was recorded.""
The manager unlocked the building.
We followed him down a narrow corridor until he stopped at a gray metal door.
There was a paper label attached to it.
*D. CARTER COLLECTIONS.*
My heart started racing.
"That's Mom's name.""
Elise touched the label.
"Danielle used that name for her private design archives.""
Evelyn nodded to the manager.
He entered the access code and rolled up the metal door.
Inside were dozens of cardboard boxes, garment bags, framed sketches, and old fashion magazines.
A mannequin stood in the center of the unit.
It wore a midnight-blue butterfly gown.
I stopped breathing.
It was almost identical to mine.
But the wings were different.
They were more elaborate, with tiny silver details sewn into the fabric.
I walked toward it.
"Mom made this?""
Elise nodded slowly.
"This is the original butterfly prototype.""
I touched the edge of one wing.
A small embroidered mark appeared beneath the seam.
Two overlapping butterflies.
Inside the lower wing were the initials D.C.
Elise's eyes filled.
"Your mother finished this before she became ill.""
Raymond stood behind us, looking devastated.
"She told me she wanted Nia to see it someday.""
Evelyn opened the first box.
Inside were financial statements, original business contracts, and copies of correspondence between Patricia Wells and Marcus Carter.
She removed a thick ledger.
"These are the transactions we're investigating.""
Elise examined the first page.
"These account numbers belong to the original design company.""
She turned another page.
Then stopped.
"Wait.""
"What?"" I asked.
"Someone transferred the licensing rights for the butterfly collection to a company called Carter Legacy Holdings.""
I looked at the paperwork.
"Who owns it?""
Evelyn checked the registration.
"Patricia Wells.""
My father lowered his head.
Raymond slammed a hand against the metal shelf.
"She stole Danielle's company!""
A voice came from the entrance.
"Not exactly.""
We all turned.
A woman stood beneath the fluorescent lights.
She was elegant, with neatly styled silver hair and a black coat that looked expensive without being flashy.
Her sunglasses were in her hand.
It was Patricia Wells.
My father took one step backward.
Vanessa whispered, "Oh, my God.""
Patricia looked at me first.
"Nia.""
I stared at her.
"You're supposed to be dead.""
She gave a small, humorless smile.
"Apparently, that rumor has been useful.""
Evelyn stepped forward.
"Patricia Wells, you are being asked to cooperate with an ongoing financial investigation. Do you understand?""
"Perfectly.""
Patricia placed her handbag on a nearby box.
"I've been expecting you.""
My father found his voice.
"You said you were leaving the country!""
Patricia glanced at him.
"And you said you would keep your daughter out of this.""
He flinched.
I stepped forward.
"Why did you declare me dead?""
Patricia studied my face.
"Because your father was willing to sign the paperwork.""
"That doesn't answer my question.""
She sighed.
"Your mother had built something valuable. More valuable than any of us realized. The trust wasn't just holding cash. It controlled the rights to an entire collection of designs.""
Elise's expression turned cold.
"Danielle created those designs.""
"Yes. And she had no intention of sharing control with me.""
"You were her attorney.""
"I was her attorney and Marcus's former wife. I understood both sides of the family.""
Raymond stepped closer.
"You were supposed to protect her.""
Patricia laughed softly.
"Danielle trusted too easily.""
I looked at the butterfly mannequin.
"Did you take her sketches?""
"I preserved them.""
"You stole them.""
Patricia ignored me and opened her handbag.
She removed a small black notebook.
"Your mother left detailed records. She knew certain designs could become extremely valuable if they were licensed properly.""
Elise narrowed her eyes.
"Then why did you forge the transfers?""
Patricia's smile disappeared.
"Because Danielle created a protection clause that would eventually give Nia complete control.""
I looked up.
"What protection clause?""
Patricia turned toward me.
"Your mother made sure that if you were ever declared dead, legally incapacitated, or improperly removed as a beneficiary, the entire trust would be frozen and transferred to an independent custodian.""
I glanced at Evelyn.
"Then why did my father get access to the money?""
Patricia looked at Marcus.
"Because I made sure the bank received documents that appeared to override the protection clause.""
My father shouted, "You told me it was temporary!""
Patricia turned sharply.
"And you spent the money!""
He went silent.
Evelyn motioned to the investigators.
"Let's secure the documents.""
One investigator approached Patricia.
She didn't resist.
Instead, she looked at me.
"Your mother left something else. Something she never gave to Elise or Raymond.""
I felt my pulse quicken.
"What?""
Patricia reached into her coat pocket.
She removed a small photograph.
It showed my mother standing beside a teenage girl.
A girl with my eyes.
But I recognized neither her face nor her clothes.
I took the photograph.
"Who is that?""
Patricia looked toward my father.
"Ask Marcus.""
He went completely still.
Patricia continued.
"Your mother didn't create the butterfly collection alone.""
I stared at the girl.
"Then who is she?""
Patricia leaned closer.
"Your father has another daughter, Nia.""
The room went silent.
Vanessa grabbed the wall.
My father closed his eyes.
May you like
And Patricia delivered the sentence that shattered the last version of my family I had ever believed in.
"That girl was your mother's first child.""
