Chapter 6: The Money They Thought Was Gone
I read my mother's letter three times before I could make sense of it.
Ask her what happened to the original contract.
What contract?
I turned the page, hoping for an explanation, but the letter ended there. The rest of the notebook contained fabric measurements, sketches, and notes about dyes and stitching.
I carried the letter downstairs.
Dad was sitting alone at the kitchen table, staring into a mug of cold coffee.
"Did Mom ever mention a contract with Victoria Sinclair?""
His head lifted.
"What?""
I placed the letter in front of him.
He read it slowly. When he reached the last sentence, he leaned back in his chair.
"I don't know anything about a contract.""
"Did you know Mom was working with Victoria?""
"Not until today.""
"Then why did you say you knew where her notebooks were, but you never gave them to me?""
Dad rubbed his face.
"I thought looking through them would make you sad.""
"They're my memories, Dad. You don't get to decide which ones I'm allowed to have.""
He stared at the letter.
"You're right.""
I waited for him to say more.
He didn't.
So I took the letter upstairs and called Victoria.
She answered immediately.
"Nia? Is everything all right?""
"I found something in my mother's notebook.""
I read her the sentence about the original contract.
For several seconds, Victoria said nothing.
Then she exhaled.
"Where did you find the letter?""
"In a notebook from the collection.""
"Can you bring it to me tomorrow?""
"Why? What happened to the contract?""
Her voice became quiet.
"Elena and I had an agreement. I was supposed to finance her collection, and she would retain ownership of her designs. We planned to establish a small studio together once she finished the final pieces.""
"Did you?""
"No.""
"Why not?""
"Elena became ill. We postponed the agreement, and then I received a message saying she'd decided to abandon the collection.""
"Who sent the message?""
Victoria paused.
"Your father.""
I gripped the phone.
"My father?""
"He told me Elena wanted to spend her remaining time with her family. I respected her wishes. I sent a letter expressing my support, but I never received a reply.""
I stared at the wall.
Dad had told Victoria that Mom no longer wanted to work with her.
But Mom's letter suggested she'd wanted the contract preserved.
"Do you still have the original agreement?"" I asked.
"No. I signed two copies. Elena kept hers, and I sent mine to my attorney. When the partnership never proceeded, the documents were archived.""
"Could someone have taken her copy?""
"It's possible. But I don't want to accuse anyone without evidence.""
I looked at my mother's handwriting.
"Neither do I.""
Victoria gave me the name of her attorney and promised to search her archives.
Before ending the call, she said something that stayed with me.
"Nia, your mother was careful. If she hid that letter, she had a reason. Don't let anyone pressure you into giving away those notebooks.""
"I won't.""
The next morning, I went to the alterations shop.
Mrs. Brooks was pinning a sleeve on a customer when I arrived. She took one look at my face and sent the customer to the fitting room.
"What's happened now?""
I showed her the letter.
She read it, then sat down.
"Your mother must have trusted Victoria very much.""
"Do you think Dad could have taken the contract?""
Mrs. Brooks considered the question.
"I think you should find out what happened before you decide what to believe.""
She handed the letter back.
"And don't forget the gala. You have a competition to win.""
I laughed weakly.
"I almost forgot.""
"No, you didn't. You're just carrying too much at once.""
She helped me prepare my portfolio for the evening. We selected the original sketches, photographs of the finished gown, and several pages from my mother's notebook.
I kept the letter separate.
It was too important to leave lying around.
At six that evening, a black car arrived outside our house.
A driver stepped out and handed me a small envelope.
"Miss Carter?""
"Yes.""
"This is from Ms. Sinclair.""
Inside was an invitation to the gala, along with a note written in blue ink.
Wear your own design. Whatever happens tonight, make sure they see the person who created it.
I was still reading when Vanessa entered the hallway.
Her eyes went straight to the envelope.
"Who sent that?""
"Victoria Sinclair.""
Vanessa's face tightened.
"Why is she contacting you personally?""
"Because I'm a finalist.""
"Don't get carried away, Nia. One dress doesn't make you a designer.""
I slipped the invitation into my bag.
"Then why are you so worried?""
Her mouth fell open.
For once, she had no immediate answer.
I left before she found one.
The gala was held in a grand ballroom overlooking the city. Crystal chandeliers cast warm light across the tables, and a stage stood beneath an enormous screen displaying photographs of the finalists' work.
I wore my ocean-inspired gown.
Not the stolen one.
Victoria had arranged for the organizers to return it to me after documenting the evidence. I had made a few final adjustments and added a small gold detail near the neckline, a tribute to my mother's sketches.
When I entered the ballroom, conversations softened.
A photographer approached.
"Are you Nia Carter?""
"Yes.""
"Could we get a picture of you in your design?""
I nodded.
As the camera flashed, I remembered the girl who'd sat on her bedroom floor crying over a ruined dress.
I wished I could tell her that the world was bigger than that house.
That one day, strangers would look at her work and see beauty instead of a reason to laugh.
Victoria met me near the stage.
"You look wonderful.""
"Thank you.""
She studied the gold detail.
"Is that from Elena's notebook?""
"Yes.""
Her eyes shone.
"She would have loved it.""
Before I could answer, a familiar voice interrupted us.
"Victoria, may I speak with you?""
Vanessa stood beside a tall man in a charcoal suit.
Dad was with her.
So was Brianna, wearing a plain black dress and looking furious.
Victoria's expression cooled.
"This is a private event.""
Vanessa smiled.
"Of course. We only wanted to clear up a misunderstanding. Nia has been telling people that Brianna stole her design, and it's causing unnecessary embarrassment.""
"The evidence has already been reviewed," Victoria replied.
"Families have disagreements.""
"Intellectual property theft is not a family disagreement.""
Vanessa's smile faltered.
The man beside her stepped forward.
"I'm Richard Vale, Brianna's father. I understand there's been some confusion regarding the dress.""
I stared at him.
I'd met him only twice. He lived in another state and rarely visited, but Brianna had always talked about his money.
Richard placed a hand on his daughter's shoulder.
"Whatever happened, I'm prepared to compensate Nia for the materials.""
I looked at him.
"You can't buy back the months I spent making it.""
"Of course. We can discuss an appropriate amount.""
"No.""
His eyebrows rose.
"No?""
"I don't want your money. I want my work recognized.""
Victoria nodded approvingly.
Richard's expression hardened.
"That's an emotional response. You should think carefully before making this difficult for everyone.""
I met his gaze.
"Everyone made it difficult when they decided my work was theirs.""
Brianna suddenly stepped forward.
"You don't understand! I needed this opportunity!""
"So did I.""
"You always get everything!""
I stared at her.
"Everything? You took my dress. You took the sketches from my room. You took the chance to stand here and tell the truth about what you did.""
Her eyes filled with tears.
"Mom said you'd never win anyway.""
The words hung in the air.
Vanessa grabbed her daughter's arm.
"Brianna, stop talking.""
But it was too late.
Victoria looked at Vanessa.
"Your daughter has just admitted she knew the design belonged to Nia.""
Vanessa's face went white.
Richard pulled Brianna aside and began whispering urgently.
Dad stood frozen.
I wanted to feel triumphant.
Instead, I felt exhausted.
Victoria touched my shoulder.
"Come with me. There's something I need to show you.""
She led me into a quiet corridor outside the ballroom.
From her handbag, she removed a thick envelope.
"My attorney found a reference to the original contract in an old archive," she said.
"The signed copy was never destroyed. It was transferred to a private storage account after Elena's death.""
"Who transferred it?""
"That's what we're trying to establish.""
She opened the envelope and showed me a photocopy of the agreement.
My mother's signature appeared at the bottom.
Beside it was Victoria's.
The document stated that Elena retained ownership of all her original designs, sketches, and future adaptations. It also referenced a trust established to support her daughter's education and creative development.
My breath caught.
"A trust?""
Victoria nodded.
"Elena arranged for a portion of the partnership funding to be placed in an account for you. It was supposed to become accessible when you turned eighteen, with provisions for your education.""
I stared at the page.
The envelope.
For Nia's Dreams.
The money Dad said had been spent on household expenses.
"How much was in the trust?""
Victoria looked at me carefully.
"The original deposit was substantial. With the terms outlined in the agreement, it may have grown considerably over the years.""
My hands began to shake.
"Can I access it?""
"That depends on the records. My attorney is investigating.""
I thought about every time Vanessa had told me to be grateful for a roof over my head.
Every time Dad had said there wasn't enough money for my future.
Every time I'd worked late into the night, saving for a dress I could barely afford.
"Why didn't anyone tell me?""
Victoria folded the document.
"That's the question we need to answer.""
A waiter passed the corridor carrying a tray of sparkling water.
Beyond him, the ballroom doors opened, and the host announced that the scholarship winner would be revealed in ten minutes.
Victoria held my gaze.
"Nia, I need you to understand something. If the trust was improperly accessed, this may become a legal matter. Your family could be involved.""
I looked through the doorway at Dad.
He was standing beside Vanessa, who had one hand pressed against his arm.
When he saw me watching, he quickly looked away.
Then Victoria's phone vibrated.
She read the message and went very still.
"What is it?"" I asked.
She slowly raised her eyes.
"My attorney has found the original financial records.""
She turned the screen toward me.
The transfer had been made two years earlier, shortly before Dad married Vanessa.
The account receiving the money belonged to a company registered under a name I recognized.
May you like
Vanessa's maiden name.
And the person who had authorized the transfer was my father, Marcus Carter.
