Chapter 5: The Woman Who Kept the Evidence
Nia didn't immediately go outside.
She stood backstage, holding Daniel Whitmore's business card between her fingers.
Mrs. Collins was unusually quiet.
“You know him?”” Nia asked.
The older woman nodded slowly.
“I know the name.””
“Why does he say Grandma asked him to find me?””
“Because she did.””
Nia stared at her.
“What?””
Mrs. Collins pulled a chair toward the worktable.
“Sit down, sweetheart. There's something I should have told you a long time ago.””
Nia lowered herself into the chair.
Outside, the exhibition hall continued buzzing with conversation. Photographers were interviewing designers. Assistants were carrying garment bags. Somewhere beyond the curtains, a violinist was rehearsing for the award ceremony.
But inside the small backstage room, the atmosphere had changed.
Mrs. Collins opened her handbag and removed a faded envelope.
It had been folded twice, and the edges were worn.
Nia recognized the handwriting immediately.
Her grandmother's.
“She gave this to me shortly before she became ill,” Mrs. Collins explained.
“She asked me to keep it safe until you were old enough to understand what it meant.””
“Why didn't you give it to me?””
“Your mother told me you weren't interested in fashion anymore.””
Nia stared at her.
“When did she say that?””
“About two years ago.””
“That wasn't true.””
“I know that now.””
Nia carefully opened the envelope.
Inside was a small photograph of her grandmother standing beside a young man in front of a fashion exhibition. Behind them was a sign reading Whitmore International Design Showcase.
On the reverse, her grandmother had written:
For Nia, when she is ready to create without fear.
Nia touched the photograph.
“Why did Mom hide this?””
Mrs. Collins exhaled.
“I don't know everything. But your grandmother had a disagreement with Vanessa about her business.””
“What kind of disagreement?””
“She believed Vanessa was allowing Brianna to receive credit for designs she hadn't created.””
Nia looked up sharply.
“How long has this been happening?””
“Long before the sapphire gown.””
The room seemed to shrink around her.
Mrs. Collins continued.
“Your grandmother kept records. Sketches, receipts, fabric orders, photographs. She wanted every creation properly documented. She was very careful about signatures.””
Nia thought about the original sketches in Richard's hands.
The dates.
The witness certification.
The tiny silver star.
Everything suddenly felt connected.
“What happened to the collection?””
Mrs. Collins looked toward the door.
“That's what Daniel may be able to explain.””
Daniel Whitmore was waiting in the private lounge.
He was in his late forties, wearing a charcoal suit and a simple silver watch. His appearance was polished but understated.
When Nia entered, he stood immediately.
“Ms. Vale.””
“Please call me Nia.””
He smiled.
“Then you must call me Daniel.””
His eyes moved briefly to the floral gown.
“I saw your presentation.””
Nia sat opposite him.
“Thank you.””
“Your grandmother would have been proud.””
The words caught her off guard.
“Did you know her well?””
“Very well. She was one of the most talented designers I ever worked with.””
Daniel opened a leather folder.
Inside were several photographs of Nia's grandmother's old designs. Some were elegant evening dresses. Others were elaborate coats and sculptural formalwear.
Nia recognized a few.
Her grandmother had shown her similar sketches when she was young.
But one design made her stop breathing.
It was a flowing gown with pink floral panels and crystal embellishments.
The silhouette was different from Nia's new creation, but the same sense of movement was there.
The same scattering of light.
“That's beautiful,” Nia whispered.
“It was called The First Bloom,” Daniel explained.
“Your grandmother created it nearly twenty years ago.””
Nia looked closer.
“Why does it look like mine?””
“Because you learned from her. You absorbed the way she thought about fabric, movement, and light. You didn't copy it. You developed your own language from what she taught you.””
Nia's eyes filled.
“She never told me about this dress.””
“She wanted to show it to you when you were ready to launch your own collection.””
Daniel closed the folder.
“Your grandmother and I had planned to establish a small independent design house. She wanted to leave you the creative archive and give you the opportunity to build something of your own.””
Nia looked up.
“Did she leave it to me?””
Daniel's expression grew serious.
“That's precisely what I came to discuss.””
He placed another document on the table.
It was a copy of a formal archive agreement.
The document identified Nia as the intended successor to her grandmother's private collection.
But the final section contained a note.
The collection had been placed in temporary custody after her grandmother's death.
The custodian listed was Vanessa Vale.
Nia felt cold.
“My mother?””
Daniel nodded.
“Your grandmother trusted Vanessa to preserve the archive until you were ready to receive it.””
“Where is it now?””
Daniel looked at the paper.
“That's the problem. The original archive was never formally transferred to you.””
Nia sat back.
“So Mom has it?””
“We don't know whether she still has every piece. But several designs attributed to Brianna over the last two years bear striking similarities to your grandmother's archived work.””
Nia looked at the photographs again.
Suddenly, Brianna's stolen sapphire gown felt like part of something much larger.
“Why didn't anyone tell me?””
“Your grandmother believed your mother would honor her promise.””
Nia lowered her eyes.
“And she didn't.””
Daniel said nothing.
He didn't need to.
A knock interrupted them.
Elaine Foster entered carrying a tablet.
“Ms. Vale, the technical team needs to speak with you.””
Nia stood.
“Is something wrong?””
“Not exactly. We've received additional material concerning the sapphire gown.””
Daniel closed his folder.
“May I remain?””
Elaine nodded.
“That's fine.””
She turned the tablet toward Nia.
A photograph filled the screen.
It showed Brianna in the atelier, wearing the sapphire gown several weeks before the competition.
But she wasn't standing alone.
Vanessa was behind her, adjusting the bodice.
Chloe, the young assistant from the fitting room, was holding a pair of scissors.
The photograph had a timestamp.
And beneath it was a message.
Remove the initials from the inside label. Replace them before the photographs are submitted.
Nia stared at the screen.
“Where did this come from?””
“An anonymous submission from someone who worked in your family's atelier.””
Nia recognized the room immediately.
The cutting table.
The crystal cabinet.
The mirrored wall.
And the scissors in Chloe's hand.
Elaine continued.
“The technical team has also received an image of the original garment label before it was removed.””
She swiped to the next photograph.
There, in clear black stitching, were the words:
*NIA VALE — ORIGINAL DESIGN.*
Nia closed her eyes.
Someone had seen what happened.
Someone had kept the evidence.
“Do you know who submitted this?”” she asked.
Elaine hesitated.
“Not yet.””
Nia looked at the photograph again.
“Chloe.””
“Who?””
“The assistant. Chloe was there.””
Twenty minutes later, Nia found Chloe near the service corridor.
The young woman was arranging empty garment bags on a rack. When she saw Nia, her hands stopped moving.
“Chloe?””
She looked toward the hallway.
“I'm busy.””
“Did you send the photographs?””
Chloe swallowed.
“I don't know what you're talking about.””
Nia moved closer.
“I'm not here to get you in trouble.””
Chloe's eyes filled.
“You don't understand.””
“Then help me understand.””
The assistant put down the garment bag.
“I tried to tell your mother it was wrong.””
Nia said nothing.
“She told me to remove the label because the photographs had to show Brianna as the designer. I didn't want to do it, but Mrs. Vale said my job depended on following instructions.””
“You cut it out?””
Chloe nodded.
“I kept the label.””
Nia's breath caught.
“Why?””
“Because I knew you made the dress. I was there when you worked on it. I watched you sew the crystals until your fingers were bleeding.””
Chloe wiped her cheek.
“I couldn't let them erase everything.””
Nia reached for her hand.
“Thank you.””
Chloe shook her head.
“I'm sorry I didn't speak sooner.””
Nia squeezed her fingers.
“Speaking now matters.””
Chloe opened her phone.
“I also have something else.””
She showed Nia several screenshots of messages from Vanessa.
The first instructed Chloe to remove the designer label.
The second requested new photographs of Brianna wearing the gown.
The third contained a chilling sentence.
Once the judges accept her submission, nobody will question where it came from.
Nia read it twice.
Then she noticed the date.
It had been sent before Brianna submitted the entry.
This wasn't a misunderstanding.
It was planned.
“Can I give these to Elaine?”” Nia asked.
Chloe nodded.
“Please. I want them to know I didn't make this decision.””
Nia took a screenshot of the messages and sent them to the technical director.
Before she could put her phone away, another message arrived.
It was from Brianna.
We need to talk. Alone.
Nia stared at it.
Then a second message appeared.
Mom doesn't know I'm contacting you.
Nia hesitated.
Chloe noticed the screen.
“Don't go.””
“Why?””
“Because Brianna knows more than she's admitting.””
Nia looked toward the lounge where Daniel was waiting.
She thought about the old archive.
The stolen sketches.
The original label.
And the woman who had slapped her in front of an entire room to make her surrender.
“I think it's time she tells me the truth.””
Brianna was waiting in the underground parking garage.
She stood beside a black luxury SUV, still wearing the expensive shoes she had worn to the runway presentation.
Her sapphire gown had been removed and placed inside a protective garment bag in the back seat.
For once, Brianna wasn't smiling.
“You came,” she said.
“You asked to talk.””
Brianna folded her arms.
“Can we not do this here?””
“You said alone.””
“I know.””
Nia leaned against the nearby concrete pillar.
“Talk.””
Brianna stared at the floor.
Then she said something Nia hadn't expected.
“I knew you made the dress.””
Nia didn't move.
Brianna rushed on.
“I knew from the beginning. I watched you work on it. I saw the sketches.””
“Then why did you tell the judges it was yours?””
“Because Mom said you were never going to make it to the competition.””
“That doesn't explain why you claimed my work.””
Brianna looked up.
“Because I wanted to win.””
The honesty was so sudden that Nia almost laughed.
“You wanted to win with something you didn't create.””
“You don't understand what it's like being compared to you all the time.””
Nia stared.
“Compared to me?””
“Everyone always talks about your talent. Grandma used to praise you. Mrs.
Collins loved you. Even Mom would get frustrated because you could make something beautiful out of nothing.””
Nia shook her head.
“Mom spent years making sure nobody knew what I made.””
“That's not my fault.””
“You benefited from it.””
Brianna looked away.
For several seconds, the garage was quiet.
Then Nia asked, “Did you know about Grandma's archive?””
Brianna's expression changed.
“What archive?””
“The collection she left behind.””
Brianna took a step backward.
“Who told you that?””
Nia held her gaze.
“Why does that scare you?””
Brianna opened her mouth.
Before she could answer, the elevator doors opened.
Vanessa stepped out.
Her eyes moved from Brianna to Nia.
“What are you doing here?””
Brianna went pale.
“Mom—”
Vanessa grabbed her daughter's arm.
“I told you not to speak to her.””
Nia looked between them.
Then Brianna whispered something that made Vanessa's grip tighten.
“Mom, she knows about Grandma's collection.””
For the first time, Vanessa looked genuinely terrified.
And when Nia took one step toward her, Vanessa did something unexpected.
She reached into her handbag, pulled out a folded document, and held it against her chest.
“Stay away from that archive, Nia.””
“Why?””
May you like
Vanessa's eyes flicked toward Brianna.
“Because if you find what's inside, you'll destroy this family.””
