Chapter 4: The Secret in the Attic
Vanessa stared at the phone in my hand.
For the first time since she had entered our house, she looked genuinely afraid.
“Hang up,” she ordered.
The woman on the other end of the call spoke before I could respond.
“Nia? Are you still there?””
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Good. Listen carefully. Is Vanessa with you?””
Vanessa stepped forward.
“Give me that phone.””
I backed away.
“Mrs. Holloway, she's here.””
A long silence followed.
Then Margaret's voice became firm.
“Vanessa Vale, I wondered how long it would take before we spoke again.””
Vanessa froze.
“You have no right to call this number.””
“Actually, I have every right. I've been attempting to contact Daniel for three days.””
“Then speak to Daniel. Leave the child out of this.””
“She is the person June wanted to protect.””
Vanessa's jaw tightened.
I looked between them, my heart pounding.
“You know each other?”” I asked.
“Unfortunately,” Margaret replied.
Vanessa reached for my phone again.
This time, I moved behind the sewing table.
“Don't touch her,” Dad said.
He had appeared in the doorway.
His face was red, and his sleeves were rolled up as if he had been working in the garage. But when he saw Vanessa reaching toward me, his expression hardened.
“What's happening?””
Vanessa immediately straightened.
“Nothing. Nia has been going through your mother's private papers again.””
Dad looked at my phone.
“Is that Margaret?””
“Yes,” I answered.
He walked toward me.
“Put her on speaker.””
I tapped the screen.
Margaret's voice filled the studio.
“Daniel, thank goodness. I've been trying to reach you.””
“Margaret, what's going on?””
“June left specific instructions concerning the original butterfly design. She wanted the documents released when someone attempted to claim the design without authorization.””
Dad looked at Vanessa.
“Does that sound familiar?””
Vanessa crossed her arms.
“This is ridiculous.””
Margaret continued.
“There's also an audio recording. June made it shortly before she died. It concerns the original butterfly gown, the Vale family, and a particular agreement signed in 1998.””
Vanessa shook her head.
“Don't listen to her, Daniel.””
“Why?”” Dad asked.
“What's she going to tell me?””
“She has been threatening my family for years.””
“Your family?”” Dad repeated.
“I thought June was your family.””
Vanessa's cheeks flushed.
“That is not what I meant.””
I stepped closer to the phone.
“Mrs. Holloway, can you tell me who stole the design?””
Margaret paused.
“I can tell you what June wanted you to hear. But first, I need to ask something. Do you still have the photograph of the original gown?””
“Yes.””
“And the small wooden box?””
“Yes.””
“Excellent. Then there is one more thing you need to find.””
“What?””
“The dress itself.””
My mouth went dry.
“You mean the dress in the photograph?””
“Yes, sweetheart. The original butterfly gown.””
I looked at Vanessa.
Margaret continued.
“June believed the gown had been destroyed. However, she discovered shortly before her death that it was still intact. She suspected someone had moved it into a private storage space.””
Vanessa looked away.
Dad noticed.
“Vanessa?””
She didn't answer.
“Where is the dress?””
“I have no idea.””
Margaret sighed.
“Vanessa, I think we should stop pretending.””
Vanessa's hands curled into fists.
“You don't know what you're talking about.””
“Then you won't mind telling Daniel where the cedar garment trunk came from.””
The room went silent.
Dad turned toward her.
“What cedar trunk?””
Vanessa stared at Margaret's name on the phone.
Then she laughed nervously.
“This is absurd.””
“Where is it?”” Dad demanded.
She looked at him.
For a moment, I thought she might deny everything again.
Instead, she said, “The attic.””
The attic smelled of dust, old cardboard, and damp wood.
Dad carried a flashlight while I followed him up the narrow staircase. Vanessa came last, her footsteps heavy against the wooden steps.
At the far end of the attic stood several boxes of Christmas decorations and a tall cedar wardrobe.
Beside it was a large wooden trunk with brass handles.
Dad pointed his flashlight toward it.
“Is that what Margaret means?””
Vanessa nodded reluctantly.
“I found it at my mother's house after she died.””
“How long have you had it?””
“Years.””
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“Because it wasn't relevant.””
Dad looked at her.
“An original gown belonging to my daughter's mother isn't relevant?””
Vanessa opened her mouth, then closed it.
I moved toward the trunk.
A brass padlock hung from the front.
“What's inside?””
“Old fabric,” Vanessa replied.
I touched the lid.
The wood was smooth, with a few scratches near the corners. Someone had recently polished the brass fittings.
It didn't look abandoned.
It looked carefully preserved.
Dad examined the lock.
“Where's the key?””
Vanessa reached into her robe pocket and produced a small silver key.
I watched her unlock it.
The metal clicked.
The lid creaked open.
Inside was a folded sheet of protective tissue paper, several layers of white cotton, and a long garment bag.
Dad carefully lifted the fabric.
Then he stopped.
The turquoise butterfly gown lay beneath it.
My breath caught.
It was smaller than I expected, but more beautiful than the photograph could ever show.
The fabric had faded slightly, but the original crystals still sparkled. The butterfly wings curved outward, delicate and precise. Every tiny detail had been sewn by hand.
A small label was attached beneath the left wing.
*Lena Carter. June Carter. 1998.*
My knees felt weak.
I touched the fabric.
“It's really here.””
Dad lowered himself beside the trunk.
“Your mother wore this.””
I nodded.
I had never seen anything that belonged to her quite like this.
Not a toy.
Not a photograph.
Not something ordinary that she might have used every day.
This was something she had created.
Something she had held in her hands.
I gently lifted the edge of the lining.
There was a tiny embroidered butterfly beneath it, almost invisible.
And beside it were two names.
*DESIGNED BY LENA CARTER.*
*CONSTRUCTED BY JUNE CARTER.*
I pressed my fingers against my lips.
“Grandma was right.””
Dad looked at the stitching.
“What do you mean?””
“The signature is inside. That's what she told me.””
Vanessa stepped closer.
“Don't touch it.””
I looked up.
“Why?””
“It's old. You'll damage the fabric.””
“You kept it hidden in a trunk.””
“I was preserving it.””
“Then why did you let me think it was gone?””
Vanessa's expression hardened.
“Because I didn't want this family dragged into an argument that happened before you were born.””
I pointed toward the gown.
“It's Mom's.””
“It's an old dress.””
“It's Mom's dress!””
My voice echoed through the attic.
Vanessa grabbed the edge of the garment bag.
Dad caught her wrist.
“Don't.””
She pulled away.
“I am not going to stand here while you let a child destroy everything I've spent years protecting.””
Dad stared at her.
“What exactly have you been protecting?””
Vanessa didn't answer.
I looked down at the gown again.
A small folded envelope was attached to the inside of the garment bag.
My name was written on it.
*For Nia, when she finds the wings.*
I gently removed it.
Inside was a note from Grandma.
My darling Nia,
If you have found this dress, then the truth has finally caught up with the people who buried it.
Your mother created the butterfly when she was twelve. I helped her make it real. Evelyn Vale wanted to buy the design, but she wanted something more than permission to manufacture it. She wanted Lena's name removed.
Your mother refused.
The original gown disappeared. I was told it had been destroyed, but I never believed it.
The missing piece is not the fabric, my love. It is the truth.
Never allow anyone to tell you that talent belongs to the person with the loudest voice.
Love, Grandma.
I read the letter twice.
Then I looked at Vanessa.
“Your mother stole Mom's design?””
Vanessa's expression shifted.
“Your grandmother left out important details.””
“Then explain them.””
She glanced at Dad.
“Evelyn paid for the materials. June agreed to let her manufacture the gown.””
“That's not what the letter says,” Dad replied.
“Your mother-in-law had a way of rewriting history.””
“Then why keep the dress?””
Vanessa looked toward the trunk.
For a moment, her face seemed almost exhausted.
“Because my mother made a terrible mistake.””
The words came out so quietly that I nearly missed them.
Dad stepped closer.
“What mistake?””
Vanessa closed her eyes.
“She took the design. She removed Lena's name from the first commercial drawings. She told the fashion house that the butterfly was an original Vale creation.””
I felt my heart pounding.
“And you knew?””
Vanessa opened her eyes.
“I was nineteen.””
“That's not an answer,” Dad said.
“My mother told me the contract gave her the rights. I believed her.””
“Did you ever learn the truth?””
Silence.
Dad looked at the trunk.
“Vanessa.””
She finally whispered, “Yes.””
I stepped backward.
She had known.
All this time, she had known.
She had watched me create the same gown. She had taken it from me. She had allowed Brianna to claim it.
And she knew exactly whose work it was.
“Why did you let Brianna wear my dress?”” I asked.
Vanessa looked at me.
“Because she needed the opportunity.””
“It's my opportunity!””
“Your sister has worked very hard.””
“She didn't make anything!””
Vanessa's voice rose.
“Brianna has spent her entire life watching other people get things handed to them!””
I stared at her.
“So have I.””
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Dad carefully closed the trunk.
“Tomorrow morning, we're meeting Margaret.””
Vanessa shook her head.
“No.””
“That's not a request.””
“Daniel, you can't do this.””
He looked directly into her eyes.
“I should have asked questions a long time ago.””
He turned toward the staircase.
I followed him, carrying the photograph and Grandma's letter.
Behind us, Vanessa remained beside the trunk.
Just before we reached the stairs, she spoke.
“You think knowing the truth will make everything better?””
Dad stopped.
“What are you talking about?””
Vanessa looked at the gown.
“Your daughter has no idea what my mother left behind.””
May you like
Then she added in a whisper:
“And neither does Brianna.””
