Chapter 7: The Last Design
Helen Price was almost at the exit when two security guards stepped in front of her.
"Please move aside," she snapped.
One guard shook his head.
"Ma'am, we need you to remain here until the situation is clarified.""
"Do you know who I am?""
"Yes, ma'am.""
"Then move!""
Her voice echoed through the ballroom.
Richard Cole approached, his expression carefully controlled.
"This is becoming embarrassing for everyone. Helen is an employee of the event. She has done nothing wrong.""
Jonathan Price, the foundation's attorney, stepped between them.
"Mr. Cole, I'd recommend you stop speaking on behalf of other people.""
Richard glared at him.
"You have no authority over my employees.""
"Perhaps not. But I have authority over the competition records and the evidence submitted to this foundation.""
Jonathan picked up Helen's phone.
"Mrs. Price, would you care to explain these messages?""
Helen looked at the screen.
For one brief second, her face betrayed her.
Then she laughed.
"Those messages are being taken out of context.""
I stepped forward.
"Which part needs context? The part where Richard tells you to destroy the original files, or the part where he says I must never see the last design?""
Helen turned toward me.
"You have no idea what you're involved in, Maya.""
"Then explain it.""
She glanced at Margaret.
"Ask her.""
Margaret's expression hardened.
"Don't try to shift responsibility.""
Helen gave a bitter smile.
"You're still pretending you were innocent, Margaret?""
Eleanor stepped closer.
"What is that supposed to mean?""
Helen looked around the room.
For years, she had stood in the background, organizing events, introducing important guests, and making sure influential people received the treatment they expected.
Now hundreds of people were watching her.
She seemed to realize that her usual authority no longer meant anything.
"Fine," she said.
"You want the truth? I'll give you the truth.""
Richard immediately interrupted.
"Helen, don't.""
She turned toward him.
"You've spent twenty-nine years telling me what to say. I'm finished.""
The room became silent.
Helen looked at Margaret.
"Anna wasn't the only person who lost something when Hayes and Bennett collapsed.""
Margaret shook her head.
"You were paid to work in our studio. You had access to the designs, but you weren't part of the partnership.""
"I was more than an assistant!""
"You were our archivist.""
"I created half the embroidery patterns!""
"Then why didn't you sign the original agreements?""
Helen's face tightened.
"Because Anna always wanted the credit.""
Margaret stepped closer.
"Anna created the collection. I developed the techniques. You organized the records. We paid you fairly.""
Helen laughed.
"Fairly? You two were going to become famous while I was supposed to remain invisible?""
I stared at her.
"Did you give Richard the sketches?""
Helen didn't answer.
Margaret looked devastated.
"You did.""
Helen lifted her chin.
"I gave him copies. I thought he would make me a partner in the new company.""
Richard's expression became murderous.
"That was never our agreement.""
Helen turned toward him.
"You promised me a percentage.""
"I paid you for your assistance.""
"You paid me once!""
"Because you were never entitled to anything else.""
The exchange was so revealing that even the guests who knew nothing about the original business could understand what had happened.
Helen had betrayed two women for a promise.
Richard had used her.
And now they were both trying to escape the consequences.
Jonathan handed the phone to another foundation representative.
"Preserve this device. We will need a complete forensic copy.""
Helen suddenly became agitated.
"You can't do that!""
"We can request preservation of evidence and refer the matter to the appropriate authorities.""
"This is private information!""
"Then you should not have used your phone to coordinate the destruction of competition records.""
Vanessa stepped forward.
"Can we please stop pretending this is some kind of criminal investigation? My father built Cole Maison. He didn't steal anything.""
Margaret looked at her.
"Vanessa, do you know what happened to Anna Bennett?""
Vanessa rolled her eyes.
"How would I know?""
"Your father told you she abandoned the fashion industry because she couldn't compete.""
Vanessa looked at Richard.
He didn't respond.
Margaret continued.
"That wasn't true. Anna spent years trying to recover her designs. She eventually returned to New York and raised her daughter while working in a small alterations shop.""
I looked down.
My mother's hands.
Her old machine.
The countless evenings she spent repairing clothing for strangers.
All those years, she had been carrying a history I never knew existed.
Vanessa looked at my dress.
"Even if everything you're saying is true, Maya still hasn't proven she designed anything original.""
Daniel raised his camera.
"Would you like to see the timestamped photographs of her creating this gown tonight?""
Vanessa looked away.
"That doesn't prove she created the original collection.""
Margaret opened her folder.
"No. But this will.""
She removed a small sheet of paper.
It was an old inventory record with a handwritten description.
Final design: The Phoenix Peacock. Reserved for Anna's daughter.
My breath caught.
"That's the last design?""
Margaret nodded.
"Yes.""
"Where is it?""
"Your mother hid the original.""
"Where?""
Margaret looked toward me.
"She never told me the exact location. But she left a clue.""
She reached into the folder and produced a photograph of a wooden sewing cabinet.
I recognized it instantly.
It was the cabinet from my mother's old shop.
The same one I had sold after she died.
The same one I had believed contained nothing but ordinary sewing supplies.
I stared at the photograph.
"Where did you get this?""
"Anna sent it to me shortly before she died. She said the final design was hidden where her daughter learned to sew.""
I felt the room spinning.
"My mother's shop.""
Margaret nodded.
"Yes.""
"But the shop closed two years ago. The building was sold.""
"Do you remember what happened to the cabinet?""
I thought hard.
My mother had left it to me.
I had taken it home.
It had stood in my apartment for several months before I moved.
Then, after a pipe burst in the building, I had placed it in a rented storage unit.
I had never opened its bottom compartment.
"Storage," I whispered.
Margaret's eyes widened.
"You still have it?""
"I think so.""
Richard suddenly stepped forward.
"That's enough.""
His voice was no longer controlled.
"Whatever document you believe is hidden there, it has no legal significance.""
Jonathan turned toward him.
"You seem unusually concerned about a cabinet.""
Richard ignored him.
He looked directly at me.
"Maya, listen carefully. If you pursue this, you will lose everything.""
I met his eyes.
"Everything I have was built without you.""
His jaw tightened.
"You think fashion is a fairy tale? You think people will support you because you have a touching story about your mother?""
"No.""
I touched the peacock brooch.
"I think people will support beautiful work when they see it.""
He leaned closer.
"You have no idea how expensive this fight will become.""
I smiled sadly.
"My mother already paid the price.""
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Eleanor Whitmore approached the center of the stage.
"I believe the competition should be suspended pending an independent review.""
Thomas nodded.
"The foundation agrees.""
Richard looked furious.
"And what happens to the award?""
Eleanor glanced at me.
"That depends on the evidence.""
She turned toward the audience.
"Tonight, we witnessed an extraordinary piece of craftsmanship. We also witnessed behavior that has no place in this industry.""
The applause began.
It was not polite applause.
It was loud.
Spontaneous.
Daniel raised his camera.
I looked around the room.
People who had ignored me earlier were now standing.
Some were crying.
Others were taking photographs of the gown.
Vanessa remained seated.
Her face was expressionless.
Then she leaned toward her father.
"Get the cabinet.""
Richard looked at her.
"What?""
"She knows where it is. We need to get there first.""
He stared at his daughter.
For a moment, I thought he might reprimand her.
Instead, he quietly nodded.
I didn't hear the rest of their conversation.
But Daniel did.
He lowered his camera and whispered:
"Maya, I think they're planning to go after your storage unit.""
My stomach tightened.
"How would they know where it is?""
Daniel looked toward the entrance.
Then he pointed.
A man wearing a dark coat had just entered the ballroom.
He was carrying a small envelope.
He walked directly toward Richard.
And when Richard opened it, his expression changed.
Inside was a photograph.
A photograph of my mother's old sewing cabinet.
On the back, someone had written four words.
*SHE ALREADY FOUND IT.*
Richard looked up.
His eyes met mine.
May you like
And for the first time that night, I saw something worse than anger.
Fear.
