Chapter 1: The Dress She Destroyed
"Take off my dress, Brianna! I made that for my scholarship competition!""
My voice echoed through the bedroom, but my stepsister didn't even turn around.
Instead, she tilted her head toward the mirror, lifted the skirt of my midnight-black silk gown, and admired how the fabric fell around her hips.
Behind her, my stepmother, Vanessa, sat on my bed eating strawberries from a bowl.
"Honestly, Nia," Vanessa said, laughing, "you should be thanking us. Brianna is doing your dress a favor by showing it to someone who knows how to wear something beautiful.""
I stared at her.
Four months.
Four months of coming home from school, eating dinner, and locking myself in that bedroom until midnight.
Four months of working weekends at a coffee shop to afford imported silk, hand-cut lace, freshwater pearls, and specialized embroidery thread.
Four months of pricking my fingers, ruining needles, and carefully stitching every detail of the gown.
That dress was my entry into the Southern Emerging Designers Competition in Atlanta.
The winner would receive a $100,000 fashion scholarship, a four-year place at an elite design institute, and a mentorship with one of America's most respected fashion houses.
For someone like me, whose father had stopped paying attention to her dreams years ago, it was more than a competition.
It was an exit door.
And Brianna was standing in front of my mirror wearing the key.
"Get out of it," I said, walking toward her.
Brianna finally turned.
She was seventeen, one year younger than me, with perfectly curled blonde hair and the kind of confidence that came from never being told no.
"Excuse me?""
"You heard me. Take it off.""
She looked at Vanessa.
"Mom, she's being weird again.""
Vanessa placed the strawberry bowl on my desk.
"Nia, don't start. Brianna only wanted to try it on.""
"Then she can try on one of her own dresses!""
Brianna laughed.
"Your designs are always so dramatic. Maybe seeing this on me will help you understand what actually looks good.""
I reached for the zipper.
"Please. I have to submit the gown on Friday.""
She slapped my hand away.
"Don't touch me!""
Then she stepped backward.
Her heel caught the delicate silk train.
I saw the fabric tighten.
I saw her notice.
And I saw the tiny smile appear on her face.
"Brianna, don't—"
RIIIIIP!
The sound tore through the room.
The skirt split from the waist down, exposing the inner structure and ripping through dozens of hand-sewn pearls.
For a second, nobody moved.
A pearl rolled across the hardwood floor.
Then another.
Then another.
I dropped to my knees.
"No. No, no, no.""
I gathered the ruined silk in my hands.
The damage was enormous. The embroidery had unraveled, the waist seam had separated, and one of the handmade shoulder pieces hung by a single thread.
I looked up at Brianna.
"You did that on purpose.""
She shrugged.
"It caught on my shoe.""
"You felt it!""
"Maybe you shouldn't make such fragile clothes.""
Vanessa stood, brushing crumbs from her blouse.
"Enough. It's just fabric.""
I looked at her, struggling to breathe.
"That fabric cost almost everything I saved.""
"Well, perhaps you should have spent your money more wisely.""
"My competition is Friday!""
"Then fix it," Vanessa replied.
Brianna stepped over a piece of torn silk.
"Actually, Mom, I think I should wear it to the competition. It looks much better on me.""
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"You're not entering my dress.""
She smiled.
"Why not? You clearly can't take care of it.""
That's when my father appeared in the doorway.
"What's all this shouting?""
I scrambled toward him, holding the torn gown.
"Dad, look! Brianna destroyed my competition dress. Please tell her she can't do this.""
He looked at the fabric.
Then at Brianna.
Then at Vanessa.
My father, Richard Carter, owned a successful construction company. He could afford to replace every inch of silk in that room without noticing the expense.
But when I needed him to stand up for me, he only rubbed his forehead.
"Nia, it's late. Don't turn this into a family argument.""
"She destroyed four months of work!""
"Then repair it.""
"How? The competition is in three days!""
He sighed.
"You're eighteen. You need to learn how to handle disappointments.""
Brianna folded her arms.
"See? Dad understands.""
I stared at him.
"Would you say the same thing if someone destroyed something she'd worked four months to make?""
His expression hardened.
"Don't drag your sister into this.""
"She's the one who destroyed it!""
"Enough, Nia.""
Those two words hurt more than the ripped silk.
I picked up the gown and carried it into my room.
Then I locked the door.
For twenty minutes, I cried on the floor beside the dress.
My phone buzzed.
It was Maya, my best friend.
*Maya:* Are we still meeting tomorrow to finish your final fitting?
I looked at the ruined gown.
My fingers trembled as I typed.
*Me:* I don't think there's going to be a final fitting.
Ten minutes later, someone knocked.
"Nia? Open up.""
Maya.
I unlocked the door.
She walked in carrying two coffees and a bag of pastries.
Then she saw the gown.
Her coffee nearly slipped from her hand.
"Oh my God. What happened?""
I didn't answer.
She picked up a section of the torn skirt and examined the damage.
"Who did this?""
"Brianna.""
Maya's jaw tightened.
"That girl needs professional help.""
I laughed bitterly.
"Apparently, so does everyone else in this house.""
Maya sat beside me.
She studied the gown for a long moment before speaking.
"Nia, tell me something.""
"What?""
"Do you still have your sketches?""
I looked toward my desk.
My sketchbook was lying beneath a pile of fabric samples.
I pulled it out and opened to the final pages.
There, hidden beneath several unfinished illustrations, was a design I'd been developing secretly for almost six months.
A midnight-blue butterfly gown.
Its fitted bodice was covered in hundreds of tiny metallic details. The skirt spread into enormous layered panels shaped like butterfly wings, each one painted with gradients of deep blue, silver, and gold.
It was the most ambitious thing I'd ever drawn.
Maya stared.
"Nia...""
"I never showed anyone because I didn't think I could make it.""
She turned another page.
"Why not?""
"Look at the construction. The wings need internal supports. The fabric has to be treated before painting. And I don't have enough materials.""
Maya closed the sketchbook.
"How much time?""
"Three nights.""
She looked at the ruined gown.
Then back at me.
"Good.""
I blinked.
"Good?""
She grabbed her coffee and placed it on the desk.
"Then we'd better stop crying and start sewing.""
And for the first time that night, I looked at something other than the dress Brianna had destroyed.
May you like
I looked at the possibility of winning.
But I had no idea that someone in my house had already made plans to steal that, too.
