Chapter 11: The Letter Beneath the Sewing Machine
Grandma's house smelled of lavender, furniture polish, and freshly baked bread.
I hadn't visited in nearly three months.
Vanessa always complained that spending time with Grandma encouraged me to become "too sentimental.""
Now I understood why she had wanted me to stay away.
Grandma led me upstairs to a small room at the end of the hallway.
It had once belonged to my mother.
The walls were pale yellow.
A wooden sewing table stood beside the window.
And in the corner was an old cream-colored sewing machine covered with a protective cloth.
I stopped breathing.
I remembered sitting beneath that table when I was six, watching my mother stitch tiny dresses for my dolls.
She used to let me press the foot pedal while she guided the fabric.
"Do you remember this?"" Grandma asked.
I nodded.
"Mom used to make my school clothes here.""
"She made much more than that.""
Grandma removed the cloth.
Underneath the sewing machine was a small wooden drawer.
She opened it with a key from her necklace.
Inside lay several folded papers, a spool of gold thread, and a photograph of my mother wearing a navy-blue dress.
I picked up the photograph.
On the back, she had written:
The Midnight Monarch. My last design with Daniel.
I looked at Grandma.
"Why did you hide this?""
"Because I promised your mother.""
"Promised her what?""
Grandma sat on the edge of the bed.
"That I would protect her work until you were old enough to understand what happened.""
My heart pounded.
"What happened?""
Grandma unfolded a letter.
It was dated three weeks before my mother's accident.
She handed it to me.
I began reading.
My mother's handwriting was delicate and slightly slanted.
Mother,
Richard has found Daniel's original portfolio. He says he wants to sell the designs to a private investor. I told him those patterns belong to the family, but he says he needs the money to save his business.
I don't believe him anymore.
He has been meeting with people from the fashion industry without telling me. He wants to claim the Transformation Collection as his own property.
I told him I would never sign anything.
If something happens to me, please make sure Nia knows that her hands can create beautiful things. I don't want her growing up believing that she has to earn permission to dream.
I stopped reading.
My vision blurred.
Maya, who had come with us, sat beside me.
"Keep going," she whispered.
I turned the page.
I have hidden the final construction pattern inside the old sewing machine. Daniel wanted Nia to have it one day. He believed she would understand the design better than anyone.
My hands shook.
I looked at the sewing machine.
"There's something inside?""
Grandma nodded.
"Your mother told me not to open it until you were ready.""
I approached the machine.
I examined the underside and noticed a small metal plate near the base.
A narrow screw held it in place.
Grandma handed me a screwdriver.
I carefully removed the plate.
Behind it was a small compartment.
Inside lay a rolled piece of tracing paper wrapped in faded blue fabric.
I pulled it out.
The paper contained a complete butterfly-wing construction pattern.
But there was something else.
A small envelope addressed to me.
*For Nia, when she is ready to finish the dress.*
I opened it.
My darling girl,
If you're reading this, I hope you've found something that makes your heart beat faster, something that makes you forget the time and keeps you awake because you cannot wait to see what it becomes.
For me, that thing was fashion.
Your uncle Daniel taught me that a dress is never just fabric. It carries memories, ideas, and pieces of the person who made it.
The Midnight Monarch was supposed to be our final collaboration. We wanted it to represent transformation: the courage to become something new even when the world expects you to remain the same.
I never finished it.
But perhaps you will.
And if you do, remember that the most important part of any design is not the name on the label.
It is the hands that made it.
I pressed the letter against my chest.
For a long moment, I couldn't speak.
Then Grandma sat beside me.
"Your mother wanted you to have this.""
I looked at the pattern.
"Why did Dad tell me she wasn't serious about designing?""
Grandma's eyes filled.
"Because your mother refused to help him sell Daniel's collection.""
I looked up.
"Did he hurt her?""
Grandma closed her eyes.
"I don't know everything that happened that night. But I know she was frightened before she died.""
My phone buzzed again.
This time, the message came from a name I recognized.
Brianna.
*Can we talk? Alone. Please.*
I stared at the screen.
Maya frowned.
"Don't go anywhere without someone knowing.""
I typed back.
*What do you want?*
Her response arrived immediately.
*I found something in Dad's office. It's about your mother's accident. And I think Dad is going to destroy it.*
My stomach dropped.
I called her.
She answered in a whisper.
"Nia, listen carefully. Dad has a safe in his office. I found a folder inside it.""
"What folder?""
"Your mother's accident report. But there's another document behind it.""
"What does it say?""
Brianna began crying.
"It says Dad was supposed to meet Mom that night.""
I stood up.
"Why?""
"I don't know. But there's a handwritten note. And it has Mom's name on it.""
"Where are you?""
"At home.""
"Don't touch anything. I'm coming.""
She hesitated.
Then she whispered:
"Nia, there's one more thing.""
"What?""
May you like
"The night your mother died, Dad wasn't alone in the car.""
The call disconnected.
