Chapter 9: The Confession She Never Expected to Make
Vanessa stood beside the worktable, staring at the note in my hand.
For years, she had controlled every conversation in our house. She decided when I could speak, when I could leave, and which dreams were too expensive to pursue.
Now she looked at me as though I had become a person she no longer recognized.
Elise folded her arms.
“You said Lorraine was going to ruin everything. Explain.””
Vanessa lifted her chin.
“I was young. I worked for people who expected results. I did what I had to do.””
“Did you steal Lorraine's designs?”” I asked.
She looked at me.
“I never stole a finished garment.””
“That isn't what I asked.””
Her jaw tightened.
Elise pulled out a chair.
“Sit down, Vanessa.””
“I don't take orders from you.””
“No,” Elise replied.
“But you came here because you want something. So sit down and tell us what it is.””
Vanessa glanced toward the door.
Then she sat.
I remained standing.
“Start with the missing pages.””
She pressed her palms together.
“Lorraine had a collection that could have changed her life. Marcus Bellamy wanted exclusive access to the designs. He believed they could make his company internationally famous.””
“And you helped him steal them?””
“I arranged a meeting.””
“With the original drawings?””
Vanessa's silence was answer enough.
Elise's voice sharpened.
“Did you remove the pages from Lorraine's portfolio?””
Vanessa looked at her.
“Yes.””
The word landed like a stone.
My knees weakened, but I forced myself to remain still.
“You stole my mother's work.””
“I was paid to obtain copies of the designs,” Vanessa said.
“I didn't understand how far Bellamy intended to take it.””
“You removed six original pages from her sketchbook.””
“I told you, I didn't know what he planned to do with them!””
Elise leaned forward.
“Then why did you keep the portfolio hidden for so many years?””
Vanessa's eyes flashed.
“Because Lorraine found out.””
The room went silent.
I stared at her.
“What happened when she found out?””
Vanessa looked away.
“She confronted me. She said she had evidence that Bellamy's company had copied her work. She threatened to expose everyone involved.””
“Everyone?”” I repeated.
Vanessa nodded reluctantly.
“She had a letter from Bellamy. He had promised her a percentage of the profits if she agreed to the arrangement. She refused the money and demanded her designs back.””
Elise's expression tightened.
“Did Bellamy threaten her?””
Vanessa didn't answer immediately.
Then she said, “He told her nobody would believe a struggling designer accusing an established company. He said he could destroy her reputation before she ever reached a courtroom.””
My stomach turned.
“And you let him.””
“I was afraid.””
“So was my mother!””
My voice cracked across the room.
Vanessa flinched.
I stepped closer.
“She had a child. She had lost her husband. She was trying to build a future for me, and you helped someone steal the only thing she had left!””
Vanessa's eyes filled with tears, but I couldn't tell whether they were real.
“You don't understand what it was like back then,” she said.
“I had debts. My own family was struggling. Bellamy offered me money, and I thought the deal would end there.””
“But it didn't.””
“No.””
“What happened to the money?””
She lowered her head.
“I used it to pay my debts.””
I felt sick.
Elise placed both hands on the table.
“Did you keep copies of the original designs?””
Vanessa hesitated.
“Yes.””
“Where?””
“I don't know anymore.””
I stared at her.
“You expect us to believe you stole my mother's work, hid the evidence, and then forgot where you put it?””
“I kept the copies in a filing cabinet. After I married your father, I moved the documents. Some things were lost when we changed houses.””
“What about the six original pages?””
Vanessa looked at the floor.
“Bellamy kept those.””
Elise exchanged a glance with her assistant, who had been quietly recording the conversation with Vanessa's consent after the discussion turned to the disputed designs.
“Did Lorraine ever learn where the pages were?”” Elise asked.
Vanessa shook her head.
“Not that I know.””
I remembered the note inside the butterfly gown.
Look for the person who profits from my silence.
My mother had known enough to leave a warning.
Perhaps she had suspected Vanessa without knowing the entire truth.
I sat down slowly.
For years, I had wondered why Vanessa treated my talent like something shameful. Why she dismissed my designs, mocked my ambition, and seemed determined to keep me small.
Now I understood one possible reason.
My work reminded her of the crime she had never admitted.
Every time I created something original, I became a living reminder that my mother had been right to fight.
And when Brianna began copying my designs, Vanessa had seen an opportunity to bury that history again.
“Did you know Brianna was wearing my gown?”” I asked.
Vanessa looked up.
“Yes.””
“Did you tell her to destroy it?””
“No. Brianna caught the seam herself.””
“But you helped her enter the competition with it.””
Vanessa swallowed.
“I thought she deserved a chance.””
“A chance to do what? Pretend she designed my work?””
“She has talent, too!””
“Then why couldn't she make her own dress?””
Vanessa's mouth tightened.
For several seconds, she had no answer.
Then she reached into her handbag and removed a folded document.
“I didn't come here to discuss the past,” she said.
Elise didn't take it.
“Then why are you here?””
Vanessa placed the document on the table.
“Because the scholarship committee is about to make a serious mistake. Brianna has a legitimate claim to the garment, and I can prove it.””
I stared at the paper.
It was a legal agreement bearing my father's signature.
My hands went cold.
Vanessa slid it toward Elise.
“Daniel signed over the rights to the Carter family's textile designs before he died. Everything Nia creates using those techniques belongs to the estate.””
I snatched the document.
The signature looked like my father's.
The date was six weeks before his death.
But something about the wording felt wrong.
My father had never spoken about transferring my mother's designs. He had spent years encouraging me to create my own work.
I read the final paragraph.
It stated that all existing and future designs using the Carter lock stitch would be controlled by the surviving spouse.
Vanessa.
My stomach twisted.
“You forged this.””
Her eyes widened.
“Don't be ridiculous.””
“My father would never have signed away my mother's work.””
“You were a child. You don't know what he agreed to.””
Elise examined the document without touching it.
“Where is the original?””
“At home.””
“Then we will have it examined.””
Vanessa stood.
“You can't do that.””
“Why not?””
“Because it's a private family agreement!””
Elise's voice was icy.
“Then you shouldn't have brought it into a dispute over stolen designs.””
Vanessa grabbed her handbag.
“You're making a mistake.””
I rose.
“No. You made the mistake when you thought I would never look for my mother's work.””
She stared at me with an expression I had never seen before.
Not anger.
Not contempt.
Fear.
Then she turned toward the door.
As she reached it, Elise spoke.
“One more question, Vanessa.””
Vanessa stopped.
“Did you know Bellamy House sold the butterfly collection under another designer's name?””
Her shoulders stiffened.
“Yes.””
“And did you receive royalties?””
Vanessa closed her eyes.
“Yes.””
My breath caught.
For twenty-one years, my mother's stolen designs had been making someone money.
And Vanessa had been collecting a share.
She left without another word.
For a long moment, I couldn't move.
Maya put an arm around my shoulders.
Elise picked up the document Vanessa had left behind.
“We need to have this authenticated immediately.””
I nodded, but my mind was somewhere else.
I was thinking about Brianna.
About the way she had stared at Vanessa in the storage room.
About the stolen gown, the copied stitching, and the private drawings that had appeared in her application.
“There's something you need to know,” I said.
Elise looked up.
“What is it?””
“I don't think Brianna knows the whole story. But she knows more than she's admitting.””
I pulled out my phone and showed Elise the threatening message I had received the night before.
Ask your stepmother what happened to the six missing designs.
Elise studied it.
“Did you recognize the number?””
“No.””
She handed the phone back.
“Then we need to find out who sent it.””
Before I could respond, my phone buzzed again.
A new message appeared.
This time, there was an image attached.
It showed Brianna standing in front of an open filing cabinet, holding a stack of yellowed sketches.
Behind her, on the wall, was a framed photograph of Marcus Bellamy.
The message beneath the photograph contained only seven words.
Ask Brianna where she found the original pages.
I stared at the screen.
Then I enlarged the image.
One of the sketches showed the blue butterfly gown.
Another bore my mother's signature.
And in Brianna's hand was a page marked with a date from the year my mother died.
I looked at Elise.
“She's been searching for them, too.””
Elise's expression hardened.
“No, Nia.””
She pointed to the bottom corner of the photograph.
A reflection in the glass revealed someone standing behind Brianna.
Someone holding a phone.
Someone who had taken the picture.
Elise leaned closer.
“She's not the only person looking for those pages.””
May you like
And as I stared at the reflection, I recognized the distinctive silver bracelet on the photographer's wrist.
It belonged to Vanessa.
