Chapter 2: Three Nights Without Sleep
At 11:47 p.m., Maya and I turned my bedroom into a disaster zone.
Organza covered the carpet. Wire frames leaned against the wardrobe. Blue fabric hung from the curtain rod, and a bowl of pearl beads sat beside a half-eaten packet of crackers.
My sewing machine rattled like an old engine.
Maya held up two pieces of black mesh.
"These are the wing bases?""
"Yes. We need four layers on each side, with the gold panels underneath.""
She looked at the sketch.
"Of course. Because making a normal dress would be too easy.""
Despite everything, I laughed.
It was the first time I'd laughed since coming home.
Then the machine jammed.
I closed my eyes.
"Not now.""
Maya leaned over my shoulder.
"Tell me what to do.""
"Pull the thread gently. No, gently. Maya, you're strangling it.""
"Your machine has personal issues.""
"Your hands have personal issues.""
She grinned and handed me the bobbin.
For the next several hours, we worked in near silence. I cut the wing panels while Maya bent thin, flexible wire into curved frames. We covered the wire with mesh, then layered organza over it, creating structures light enough to move without collapsing.
The design was ambitious, but not impossible.
The hardest part was making the wings look like living things rather than decorations sewn onto a dress.
I painted the fabric with deep indigo, electric blue, and metallic gold. Each panel needed a different pattern, with dark edges fading into bright centers.
My fingers cramped.
A needle pierced my thumb.
I sucked in a breath and pressed the wound against a tissue.
Maya glanced over.
"That's the third time tonight.""
"It's the fourth.""
"That is not a competition you need to win.""
"I have a scholarship to win.""
She didn't argue.
At 3:15 a.m., someone pounded on my door.
"Nia! Turn off that machine!"" Vanessa shouted from the hallway.
"Some of us have jobs in the morning!""
I froze.
Maya whispered, "What do we do?""
I looked at the unfinished bodice.
"Keep sewing.""
The pounding came again.
"Did you hear me?""
"Yes, Vanessa!"" I called.
"I'll stop in five minutes.""
"Make it now, or I'll take the machine away!""
I stared at the door.
The machine was the only expensive thing I owned. It had belonged to my mother before she died, and Dad had repaired it himself.
I could not afford to lose it.
I switched off the machine.
For several seconds, the room fell silent.
Then Vanessa's footsteps moved away.
Maya waited until the floorboards stopped creaking before she whispered, "She's enjoying this.""
"I know.""
"How can she watch Brianna sabotage you and still punish you for trying to recover?""
I threaded a needle by hand.
"Because Brianna is her daughter.""
"And you're not?""
I had no answer.
Maya looked as if she wanted to say more, but she turned back to the wings instead.
We worked by desk lamp until sunrise.
At seven, I hid the unfinished dress beneath a blanket and went to school with black paint beneath my fingernails.
During lunch, I sat behind the auditorium with my sketchbook open on my knees.
I was calculating how to reinforce the wing joints when my phone buzzed.
A message from Brianna appeared.
Heard you're making a Halloween costume. Cute.
A second message followed.
Maybe the judges will give you extra points for creativity. They love charity cases.
I stared at the screen.
Then I typed a response.
At least I made something.
I deleted it before sending.
There was no point giving her the satisfaction.
When I returned home that afternoon, Brianna was waiting in the kitchen wearing a new cream-colored blouse.
She leaned against the counter, scrolling through her phone.
"How's the butterfly thing going?""
I walked toward the stairs.
"Fine.""
"Mom says you should stop wasting money on materials. She says we have bills.""
I turned around.
"You mean the materials I bought with money from my weekend job?""
Brianna blinked.
"Why are you getting defensive?""
"Because you keep pretending my life belongs to you.""
She laughed and showed me her phone.
On the screen was a photograph of my ruined gown.
Someone had taken a picture of it on my bed.
The caption read: Some people think a sketchbook makes them designers.
My stomach tightened.
"You posted that?""
"Relax. It's just a joke.""
"You took a picture of my room?""
"I was documenting the crime scene.""
"Take it down.""
Brianna slipped the phone into her pocket.
"Make me.""
I stepped closer.
For one wild second, I imagined grabbing the phone and throwing it through the kitchen window.
Instead, I walked upstairs.
I could hear her laughing behind me.
That night, Maya arrived with a shopping bag full of supplies she had bought using money she had been saving for a concert.
When I saw the receipt, I frowned.
"You didn't have to do this.""
"I know.""
"I'll pay you back.""
"Then become famous and buy me a house.""
I smiled faintly.
"What kind of house?""
"One with a sewing room that doesn't have a broken window.""
We worked until our backs ached.
By midnight, the bodice was finished. It hugged the torso cleanly, with dark blue fabric fading into black around the waist. Gold stitching traced the curves like delicate veins.
At two in the morning, we attached the first wing.
I stepped into the dress and stood in front of the mirror.
Maya lifted the frame.
"Ready?""
I nodded.
She pulled the concealed cord.
The wing unfolded behind my shoulder.
Blue and gold caught the lamplight.
For a moment, I forgot the exhaustion, the ruined silk, and the cruel messages.
I saw what I had imagined.
A butterfly emerging from darkness.
Then the second wing snagged on the wardrobe handle.
The wire bent.
The fabric tore.
I gasped as the entire structure sagged.
Maya dropped the cord.
"Oh, no.""
I stood perfectly still, staring at the broken wing.
We had less than twenty-four hours.
My throat tightened.
"Can we fix it?""
Maya examined the damaged joint, then the sketch.
"Maybe.""
"Maybe isn't good enough.""
She looked up at me.
"Nia, look at me.""
I did.
"We have fixed every problem so far. We can fix this one.""
I wanted to believe her.
We spent the next two hours rebuilding the joint with a stronger support system hidden beneath the fabric. By dawn, the wing moved smoothly again.
At breakfast, Vanessa glanced at the dark circles beneath my eyes.
"You look dreadful.""
"Thank you.""
"Don't use that tone with me.""
Brianna sat across from me, eating strawberries from a glass bowl.
"She probably stayed up all night making her costume.""
Vanessa chuckled.
"Well, at least she'll have something to wear when she doesn't win.""
I gripped my fork.
Maya's voice echoed in my mind.
Make them regret everything.
I took a sip of water and said nothing.
That afternoon, I received an email from the scholarship coordinator.
*FINAL GARMENT INSPECTION: 9:00 A.M. TOMORROW.*
I read it twice.
Then I checked the dress.
One wing remained unfinished. The gold trim needed to be secured, and the back fastening still pulled unevenly.
I had less than twenty hours.
As I returned to my room, I heard Vanessa speaking on the phone downstairs.
Her voice was bright, almost excited.
"Yes, Elise. Of course Brianna will be there. She's wearing the gown we discussed.""
I stopped on the stairs.
Elise.
The name meant nothing to me at first.
Then I remembered the fashion magazine on Vanessa's coffee table, the one featuring the legendary designer Elise Monroe.
Vanessa had spent weeks bragging about meeting her at the scholarship event.
I moved closer to the railing.
Vanessa laughed softly.
"You'll see. Brianna has the right look for this industry.""
A pause.
Then she said something that made my fingers tighten around the banister.
"No, Elise. There's no chance Nia will embarrass us. I made sure of that.""
I backed away before she could see me.
In my room, I locked the door and stared at the unfinished wings.
For the first time, I understood that Vanessa wasn't merely hoping I would fail.
May you like
She was counting on it.
And whatever she had arranged with Elise Monroe, she intended to make sure I never got close enough to find out.
