Chapter 3: The Dress They Stole From Me
The next morning, I woke to the sound of someone trying my bedroom doorknob.
I sat up immediately.
The room was still dim, and for a moment I couldn't remember where I was. Then I saw the covered gown beside my desk and remembered everything.
The paint.
The sewing.
The competition submission.
I slipped out of bed and checked the lock.
Someone turned the handle again.
“Nia?”” Vanessa called.
“Open the door.””
I looked at the clock.
Seven fifteen.
“What do you need?””
“We're going shopping. Your father wants us to pick up a few things for graduation.””
“I'll come down in a minute.””
“Open the door first.””
I hesitated.
Then I unlocked it.
Vanessa stood in the hallway with Brianna beside her. Brianna was wearing a white sweater and carrying her phone, her fingers moving rapidly across the screen.
Vanessa glanced over my shoulder.
“Where's the dress?””
“Safe.””
Brianna laughed.
“She's hiding it like it's a million-dollar diamond.””
“Go get ready,” Vanessa told her.
Brianna walked away, still laughing at something on her phone.
Vanessa remained in the doorway.
“Your graduation is supposed to be a family celebration,” she said.
“We need to make sure everyone looks appropriate.””
“I'm wearing my own dress.””
“I know. But Brianna has been invited to a private graduation dinner with some of her friends. She needs something elegant.””
I frowned.
“Why are you telling me?””
Vanessa gave me a look that made my stomach tighten.
“Because you know how to sew.””
“I don't have time to make Brianna a dress.””
“I'm not asking you to make one.””
“Then what are you asking?””
She smiled.
“Nothing. Forget I mentioned it.””
She walked away.
I closed the door and leaned against it.
Something felt wrong.
I couldn't explain why, but Vanessa's sudden interest in my gown made me uneasy.
I moved the dress form away from the window and placed it beside my desk. Then I checked the cover and made sure the zipper was closed.
My phone vibrated.
An email notification appeared from the design competition.
My heart jumped.
I opened it.
Thank you for submitting your updated portfolio. Our review team is currently evaluating the finalists. You will receive a separate notification if your design advances to the next round.
I read it twice.
It wasn't the answer I wanted, but it wasn't a rejection either.
I set my phone down and returned to my sewing table.
By noon, the gown was finished.
I had added a final row of crystals along the train, and the blue silk panels now flowed beautifully whenever I moved. I stepped into the dress and walked slowly across the room.
The skirt whispered over the floor.
I turned toward the mirror.
For the first time in months, I didn't see a girl trying to prove she deserved a place in the world.
I saw a designer.
I took one last photograph and sent it to my best friend, Maya Thompson.
Her reply came almost instantly.
*MAYA:* NIA. WHAT IS THAT?
I laughed.
*ME:* My graduation dress.
*MAYA:* YOU MADE THAT?
*ME:* Yes.
*MAYA:* I'm coming over. Don't move.
I smiled so hard my cheeks hurt.
Maya had been my friend since middle school. She was the only person who knew how much the gown meant to me, and she'd spent months listening to me talk about the competition.
Ten minutes later, she arrived at our front door.
I heard her voice downstairs.
“Hi, Mr. Carter! Is Nia home?””
Dad answered from the kitchen.
“She's upstairs. Go on up.””
Maya rushed into my room and stopped dead.
“Oh. My. God.””
I laughed.
“That's the reaction I was hoping for.””
She circled the gown, studying the blue patterns.
“You turned the paint into part of the design?””
“More or less.””
“Nia, this looks like something from a royal wedding.””
“It's a little dramatic.””
“It's supposed to be dramatic!””
She crouched to examine the crystals near the hem.
“Look at the details. How long did this take?””
“Most of the night.””
Maya straightened and stared at me.
“Your stepsister did this on purpose, didn't she?””
I looked down.
“Yeah.””
“I'm going to throw her phone into a swimming pool.””
Despite everything, I laughed.
“Please don't. I don't have bail money.””
Maya's expression softened.
“Seriously, though. You should be proud of yourself.””
I touched the skirt.
“I am. I think.””
“No thinking. You are.””
She hugged me carefully, making sure not to crush the gown.
Then she stepped back.
“Promise me you'll wear this to graduation.””
“I promise.””
“And promise me you'll show the judges every detail.””
“I already submitted the photos.””
“Good. Because if they don't select you, I'm personally going to write them a letter explaining why they're blind.””
I laughed again.
For a little while, everything felt normal.
Then Vanessa appeared at the door.
Her eyes went straight to the gown.
She didn't compliment it.
She didn't ask how I'd made it.
She simply stared at it with an expression I couldn't read.
Maya noticed.
“Hi, Mrs. Reed.””
Vanessa barely acknowledged her.
“Nia, come downstairs. I need to speak with you.””
“Can it wait?””
“No.””
I looked at Maya.
She gave me a worried glance.
“It's okay,” I told her.
“I'll be right back.””
I followed Vanessa downstairs.
She led me into the living room, where Brianna sat on the couch scrolling through her phone. A glossy fashion magazine lay open on the coffee table.
Vanessa pointed toward the sofa.
“Sit.””
“I'd rather stand.””
Her mouth tightened.
“Don't make this difficult.””
Brianna finally looked up.
“Mom, just tell her.””
Vanessa folded her hands.
“Brianna has been invited to an exclusive graduation celebration. Some very influential people will be there. Parents, business owners, people who know people in the fashion industry.””
I said nothing.
“She needs a gown that makes an impression,” Vanessa continued.
“Then you should buy her one.””
Brianna rolled her eyes.
“Mom already tried. Nothing looks right.””
Vanessa gave her daughter a sympathetic smile.
“She's been very stressed.””
I stared at them.
“I'm sorry, but I don't understand why this is my problem.””
Vanessa leaned forward.
“Because you have a beautiful gown upstairs, and Brianna deserves to feel special on her graduation weekend.””
The words struck me like a slap.
“It's my gown.””
“Of course it is,” Vanessa said smoothly.
“And nobody is saying otherwise.””
Brianna sat up.
“Then let me borrow it.””
“No.””
Her face twisted.
“What?””
“I said no. I made it for my graduation.””
Brianna threw her phone onto the couch.
“You always do this!””
“Do what?””
“Act like everything belongs to you! You have Dad's attention, you have your stupid sewing machine, and now you're trying to show everyone you're some kind of genius!””
“I never asked for any of that!””
Vanessa rose from her seat.
“Enough. This is exactly why we can't have a peaceful conversation.””
I stared at her in disbelief.
“You're the one asking me to give Brianna my dress.””
“I'm asking you to help your family.””
“My family wouldn't destroy something I spent months making.””
The room went silent.
Brianna's face turned red.
Vanessa's expression became dangerously still.
“Go upstairs,” she said.
“Gladly.””
I turned toward the stairs.
Behind me, Brianna muttered, “Spoiled little orphan.””
I stopped.
For a moment, the room seemed to lose all its air.
I turned around slowly.
“What did you say?””
Brianna crossed her arms.
“You heard me.””
Vanessa didn't correct her.
She didn't tell her to apologize.
Instead, she picked up the magazine and began flipping through its pages as though the conversation had become boring.
I looked at both of them.
Then I walked upstairs without another word.
Maya was waiting in my room.
“What happened?””
I closed the door.
“They want my dress.””
Maya's jaw dropped.
“To borrow?””
I shook my head.
“They want me to give it to Brianna.””
“Absolutely not.””
“I told them no.””
“Good.””
Maya looked at the gown.
“Maybe you should take it somewhere else until graduation. My mom has a spare room. We could hide it at our house.””
The suggestion made sense.
I looked toward the hallway.
“I'll ask Dad when he gets home.””
Maya nodded.
“Promise me you won't leave it here alone.””
“I promise.””
She stayed another twenty minutes, helping me pack my sewing supplies and carefully fold the extra silk.
Before she left, she took several photographs of the gown.
“Evidence,” she said.
“If anyone tries anything, I want proof of what it looked like.””
I smiled weakly.
“That's a little dramatic.””
“Your family poured paint on a dress. I think we've earned dramatic.””
After Maya left, I sent Dad a text asking when he'd be home.
He replied that he had an important meeting and might not return until late.
I stared at the message.
Then I looked at the gown.
I considered carrying it to Maya's house immediately, but the train was so large that I worried about damaging the delicate layers in a hurried trip. I decided to wait until Dad returned so he could help me transport it safely.
That decision would haunt me for a long time.
At six thirty, I went downstairs to get something to eat.
Vanessa was in the kitchen, speaking on the phone.
“Yes, the dress is absolutely gorgeous,” she said.
“Brianna will look like a princess.””
I froze in the doorway.
Vanessa turned her back to me.
“Don't worry. I'll take care of everything.””
She ended the call and opened the refrigerator.
“Are you hungry?””
I studied her face.
“Who were you talking to?””
“A friend.””
“About my dress?””
Vanessa closed the refrigerator.
“Everything isn't about you, Nia.””
I didn't answer.
I grabbed an apple and returned upstairs.
When I reached my room, I locked the door and placed a chair beneath the handle.
I checked the window.
Closed.
I checked the cover.
Secure.
Then I sat on the floor beside the dress form and opened Mom's notebook.
I read her old sketches until my eyes grew heavy.
At some point, I fell asleep.
A loud crash woke me.
I jerked upright.
The chair beneath my doorknob scraped across the floor.
Someone was pushing against the door.
“Nia!”” Brianna shouted.
“Open up!””
I scrambled to my feet.
“What are you doing?””
“Open the door!””
I grabbed the handle and held it firmly.
“Go away!””
Then I heard Vanessa's voice.
“Move aside, Brianna.””
Something metallic scraped against the lock.
My blood ran cold.
They had a key.
I pushed my shoulder against the door.
“Stop! What are you doing?””
The lock turned.
The door swung inward.
Vanessa stepped into the room, holding the key in one hand. Brianna followed, her eyes fixed on the covered gown.
I backed away.
“Get out!””
Vanessa ignored me.
“Brianna needs to leave soon. We don't have time for another argument.””
She grabbed the cover and yanked it away.
The gown gleamed beneath the bedroom light.
Brianna gasped.
For one brief second, she looked almost reverent.
Then her expression hardened into something greedy.
“It's even prettier up close,” she whispered.
I stepped between her and the dress.
“Don't touch it.””
Vanessa reached for my arm.
“Move, Nia.””
“No.””
She tightened her grip.
“I will not ask you again.””
I pulled free.
“It's mine! I made it! You can't just take it!””
Brianna lunged for the train.
I grabbed the opposite side.
The fabric stretched between us.
“Let go!”” I shouted.
“You let go!”” Brianna screamed.
Vanessa seized the bodice and pulled.
The dress form toppled.
Crystals scattered across the floor like tiny pieces of broken glass.
I stumbled forward, trying to catch the gown before it touched the ground.
“Please!”” I cried.
“You're going to damage it!””
Brianna dragged the skirt toward the door.
Vanessa pulled the bodice in the opposite direction.
I clung to the fabric with both hands.
“NO! I MADE THAT!””
Vanessa turned and struck me across the face.
The sound cracked through the room.
My head snapped sideways.
For one terrible second, I couldn't hear anything except a high ringing in my ears.
I slowly touched my cheek.
Vanessa's chest rose and fell.
“Stop behaving like a selfish child,” she snapped.
“My daughter deserves it more!””
I stared at her.
She had just hit me.
For a dress.
For something I had made with my own hands, using the last memories I had of my mother.
Brianna pulled the gown free.
“Come on, Mom! We need to go!””
Vanessa gathered the train into her arms.
Together, they carried my dress toward the hallway.
Brianna looked back over her shoulder and smiled.
“Thanks for making me something beautiful, Nia.””
Then she laughed.
Vanessa laughed with her.
They walked away, dragging the train down the stairs.
I stood frozen in the middle of my room.
The chair lay on its side. My sewing supplies were scattered everywhere. Blue and silver crystals glittered across the floor.
I could hear their laughter fading toward the front door.
Then the door slammed.
I ran downstairs.
The living room was empty.
The front door stood open, and through the window I saw Vanessa's car pulling away from the curb.
My gown was inside.
My hands shook as I grabbed my phone.
I called Dad.
Voicemail.
I called again.
Voicemail.
I tried Maya.
She answered immediately.
“Nia? What's wrong?””
I opened my mouth, but no words came out.
“Nia?””
“They took it,” I finally whispered.
“Took what?””
“My dress.””
There was a pause.
Then Maya's voice sharpened.
“Who took your dress?””
“Vanessa and Brianna.””
“What? Nia, I'm coming over right now.””
“They hit me,” I said, touching my cheek.
Maya went silent.
Then she spoke slowly, each word clear.
“Do not let them tell you this is your fault. Do you hear me? I'm coming.””
I sank onto the bottom stair.
For several minutes, I couldn't stop shaking.
I had imagined losing the competition. I'd imagined the judges rejecting my work, or someone laughing at my design.
I hadn't imagined my own family stealing the gown from my hands.
My phone vibrated.
I thought it was Maya telling me she was on her way.
Instead, an email appeared from the design competition.
*Subject: URGENT — Your Design Has Been Selected for the Final Round*
My heart stumbled.
I opened it with trembling fingers.
The message began:
Dear Nia Carter,
We are delighted to inform you that your design has been selected for the final round of the Young Creators Fashion Showcase.
I stared at the screen.
The next paragraph explained that the judges had been especially impressed by the transformation of my original design. They described the blue patterns as an unexpected artistic statement and praised the gown's craftsmanship, movement, and emotional story.
Then I saw the final attachment.
A photograph.
My photograph.
The image I had submitted that morning showed the entire princess gown, from its crystal-covered bodice to its enormous flowing train.
Underneath it, the judges had written:
Your design will be featured in the final-round presentation. Please bring the exact garment shown in your submission to the showcase for verification and judging.
I read that sentence again.
And again.
They wanted the exact gown.
The one Vanessa and Brianna had just stolen.
My phone vibrated a second time.
This time, it was a new email from the competition coordinator.
Ms. Carter, we have one additional question regarding your submission. A sponsor has contacted us claiming that the gown in your photograph belongs to another designer. Before we proceed, we need to speak with you directly.
I stopped breathing.
Someone had already seen my dress.
Someone had already claimed it.
May you like
And the sponsor's name was listed at the bottom of the message.
*Vanessa Reed.*
