Chapter 5: The Secret My Mother Left Behind
The red warning remained on the screen for several seconds.
Then it disappeared.
The ballroom erupted.
Guests stood.
Photographers moved toward the stage.
Several judges began speaking at once.
Richard calmly slipped his phone into his jacket.
"Technical difficulties," he announced.
"Nothing more.""
Margaret didn't look convinced.
"That archive is protected by an independent legal trust. You cannot revoke access.""
Richard smiled.
"I wouldn't be so certain.""
Eleanor approached him.
"What exactly did you do?""
"Nothing that concerns you.""
"Then why are you looking so pleased?""
Richard's smile disappeared.
Vanessa stepped forward.
"Dad, can we leave?""
He turned toward her.
"Not yet.""
She glanced at me.
"This is ridiculous. Maya has manipulated everyone into believing she has some connection to our business.""
I looked at her.
"I didn't even know my mother had worked with Margaret.""
"Convenient.""
Margaret raised her voice.
"Enough, Vanessa.""
Vanessa laughed.
"Why? Because you're going to tell another story about a woman nobody remembers?""
Margaret's eyes hardened.
"Your father remembers.""
Richard stepped toward the stage.
"Security.""
Two guards approached.
"Please escort Mrs. Hayes from the premises.""
The first guard hesitated.
"Sir, she's an invited guest.""
"I am a major sponsor of this event. Do as I say.""
Eleanor moved between them.
"Nobody is escorting Margaret anywhere.""
Richard stared at her.
"You're making a mistake.""
"No, Richard. I've made several mistakes. Allowing your company to sponsor this event was one of them.""
The room fell silent.
Eleanor turned toward Thomas.
"Do we have the original submission records?""
Thomas nodded.
"Yes. They're stored in the judging office.""
"Bring them.""
Richard shook his head.
"This is becoming absurd.""
But Thomas had already left.
I stood beside Margaret.
"Can I ask you something?""
"Of course.""
"Why didn't my mother tell me any of this?""
Margaret looked at the old photograph in her hand.
"Because she was protecting you.""
"From what?""
Margaret hesitated.
"From the same people who are standing in this room.""
I looked toward Richard.
He was speaking urgently to a man near the entrance.
His expression had become increasingly tense.
Margaret lowered her voice.
"After Anna left London, she discovered that several of our original designs had been copied. She tried to stop the company responsible.""
"Which company?""
Margaret looked at me.
"Cole Maison.""
My breath caught.
"Your father worked with my mother?""
"Not directly at first. Richard was a junior executive at the time. He was responsible for acquiring the rights to several independent fashion labels.""
"And he stole the designs?""
Margaret sighed.
"He acquired the business documents through a complicated agreement. Anna believed the contract was temporary. Richard later claimed it gave him permanent ownership.""
I shook my head.
"But why would Mom never fight him?""
"She did.""
Margaret opened her folder.
"She spent years gathering evidence. But every time she got close to proving what happened, another document disappeared or another witness changed their statement.""
"Did she give up?""
Margaret looked down.
"No. She became ill before she could finish.""
My throat tightened.
I remembered the last months of my mother's life.
The hospital visits.
The medication.
The quiet afternoons when she would sit by the window and sort through old fabric samples.
I remembered asking her why she never designed anymore.
She had simply smiled.
"Some things are worth keeping safe until the right person comes along.""
I had thought she was talking about me.
Perhaps she had been.
A hand touched my shoulder.
Eleanor.
"Maya, may I see the brooch?""
I carefully unclasped it.
She held it beneath the light.
Her expression changed.
"Margaret.""
Margaret turned.
"Yes?""
"Look at the back.""
Eleanor flipped the brooch over.
A tiny engraved mark was visible near the clasp.
Two intertwined letters.
H and B.
Margaret inhaled sharply.
"Good Lord.""
"What?"" I asked.
Eleanor looked at me.
"This isn't merely a family heirloom.""
Margaret nodded.
"It's the original partnership emblem.""
She pointed to the tiny engraving.
"Anna and I had this made when we established Hayes and Bennett.""
I stared at the brooch.
My mother had worn it on special occasions.
She had told me it was a family keepsake.
I never knew it had a history.
Margaret gently returned it to my palm.
"She kept it all these years.""
I closed my fingers around it.
A strange warmth spread through my chest.
Then Daniel approached, carrying his camera.
"Maya, I need to show you something.""
He opened the camera screen.
It was a photograph he had taken earlier, before Vanessa destroyed my dress.
The image showed her standing near the service corridor.
She was holding a clear plastic container.
Behind her stood a young man wearing a Cole Maison staff badge.
Daniel enlarged the image.
"Look at his hand.""
The man was passing Vanessa something.
A small bottle.
I leaned closer.
"What's that?""
"I don't know. But I photographed the whole sequence.""
He swiped to the next image.
Vanessa was pouring the teal liquid into a glass pitcher.
The next photograph showed her walking toward me.
Then came the moment the liquid hit my dress.
Daniel looked at me.
"I have everything.""
Margaret took the camera.
She studied the photographs carefully.
"Excellent.""
Vanessa, who had been watching us, suddenly rushed forward.
"Delete those.""
Daniel pulled the camera away.
"Excuse me?""
"Those pictures are private.""
"They were taken at a public event.""
"You're not allowed to photograph me without permission.""
Daniel gave a short laugh.
"That's not how photography works.""
Richard appeared beside her.
"Mr. Reed, I suggest you hand over those files.""
Daniel shook his head.
"No.""
Richard lowered his voice.
"Do you understand what you're getting involved in?""
"Yes. I'm documenting a woman destroying another woman's work.""
Vanessa pointed at me.
"She provoked me!""
I stared at her.
"By wearing a dress?""
"You knew exactly what you were doing!""
"What did I do?""
"You made everyone think you were better than me!""
The words came out before she could stop herself.
The room went silent.
I looked at her.
"So that's why you poured dye on my dress?""
Vanessa's mouth opened.
Then closed.
Richard grabbed her arm.
"Vanessa. Stop talking.""
But it was too late.
Several guests had heard her.
One photographer lowered his camera slowly.
Eleanor looked at Thomas, who had just returned carrying a thick document box.
"Perhaps we should proceed with the evidence.""
Thomas placed the box on the table.
Inside were printed applications, original sketches, digital submission records, and signed agreements.
Margaret opened the top folder.
She found my entry.
Then Vanessa's.
She placed them side by side.
I leaned forward.
The design Vanessa had presented was listed under the name Winter Majesty.
Its submission date was eleven months earlier.
My own original collection, Wings of Renewal, had been submitted fourteen months earlier.
I stared at the dates.
Vanessa's designs had been submitted after mine.
But the drawings looked almost identical.
Margaret examined the signatures.
"These are not original sketches.""
Richard's voice became cold.
"Those records are confidential.""
"Then you should have protected them.""
Eleanor picked up one of the pages.
"Thomas, compare the digital timestamps.""
Thomas opened his laptop.
A few minutes passed.
Then his face changed.
"That's impossible.""
"What?"" Eleanor asked.
He turned the screen toward us.
"The file history shows that several of Vanessa's designs were uploaded using an account registered to Maya Bennett.""
I froze.
"What?""
Vanessa stared at the screen.
Then she slowly smiled.
"Well, there it is.""
Daniel stepped forward.
"That can't be right.""
Richard looked toward the judges.
"It appears Miss Bennett submitted the designs first and then attempted to accuse my daughter of copying them.""
I shook my head.
"I never uploaded those files.""
Thomas examined the record again.
"The account was accessed using a verified login.""
"I've never shared my password with anyone.""
Vanessa approached the table.
"Perhaps you forgot.""
I looked at her.
She held my gaze.
And I understood.
She hadn't merely destroyed my dress.
She had arranged something much bigger.
Something that had been planned long before tonight.
Margaret turned another page.
Then she stopped.
Her face went completely pale.
"Maya...""
"What?""
She pointed toward the bottom of the document.
There was a signature.
A familiar name.
My mother's.
But beneath it was a second signature.
One that made my stomach drop.
Richard Cole.
And the date was twenty-nine years old.
Margaret whispered:
"Your mother didn't just leave you the original collection.""
May you like
She looked toward Richard.
"She left you the rights to the entire company.""
