Chapter 8: The Sister Nobody Was Allowed to Name
Nia stared at Eleanor.
"Your sister?""
The old woman nodded.
Vanessa leaned against the doorway.
"Now you understand why I said the original designer wasn't your grandmother.""
Eleanor looked at her.
"Rose was my mother. Elena was my sister. And she was the rightful heir to the original collection.""
Nia slowly lowered the photograph.
"Then why did you tell everyone you were an only child?""
Eleanor sat on the edge of the old cutting table.
"Because my sister disappeared.""
"Disappeared?""
"When I was seventeen.""
Nia waited.
Eleanor looked at the old sewing machine.
"Elena was beautiful, stubborn, and incredibly talented. She learned embroidery from our mother. I learned construction and tailoring. Together, we helped Rose build the collection.""
"Then what happened?""
"Elena fell in love with a man named Samuel Whitmore.""
Vanessa stepped into the room.
"Your great-grandmother hated him.""
Eleanor nodded.
"Samuel was a businessman. He wanted to turn Rose's collection into a luxury brand. He believed the designs could make a fortune.""
Nia glanced at the sketch.
"The rose-wing dress.""
"Yes. Elena wanted to help him. She believed the money would allow them to build a fashion house.""
"But Rose refused.""
"She refused to sell the designs. She believed the veils belonged to the women who had received them.""
Eleanor's voice became bitter.
"One night, Elena left with Samuel. She took several sketches and some of the archive records.""
Nia frowned.
"Did Rose ever see her again?""
"Once.""
"When?""
"Three years later. Elena came back with a little girl.""
Nia's eyes widened.
"She had a daughter?""
Eleanor nodded.
"She asked Rose to forgive her. Rose welcomed her home. But Samuel wanted the collection, and Elena refused to give it to him.""
Vanessa looked at the photograph.
"That little girl was my mother.""
Nia turned.
"What?""
Vanessa nodded.
"My mother was Elena's daughter.""
The room went silent.
Nia looked at Eleanor.
"Vanessa is...""
"My niece," Eleanor whispered.
Nia stepped backward.
The woman who had stolen her designs.
The woman who had sold her grandmother's heirlooms.
The woman who had spent eleven months manipulating her career.
Was family.
Vanessa gave a small, humorless smile.
"Surprised?""
Nia couldn't speak.
Vanessa continued.
"My mother died when I was twelve. Samuel raised me. He told me the Carter family had stolen everything from us.""
Eleanor shook her head.
"That's not true.""
"He showed me the documents.""
"He forged them.""
"He told me Rose had promised Elena the collection.""
"Rose promised her the designs would remain in the family. She never promised Samuel ownership.""
Vanessa's voice rose.
"Do you know what my childhood was like? I grew up hearing that my grandmother had been robbed of her inheritance. I watched my father spend years trying to recover what belonged to us.""
Eleanor looked at her sadly.
"Samuel wasn't your father.""
Vanessa froze.
"What?""
Nia turned sharply.
"Grandma?""
Eleanor lowered her head.
"Samuel was Elena's husband. But he wasn't your biological grandfather.""
Vanessa laughed.
"That's another lie.""
"No.""
"Who was?""
Eleanor looked toward the photograph of Elena.
"Rose never told me his name. Elena refused to speak about him.""
Vanessa shook her head.
"You expect me to believe that?""
"I expect you to understand that your entire childhood was built around a story Samuel invented.""
Vanessa's face twisted.
"Then why did he have the documents?""
"Because he stole them.""
"Why did he have the sketches?""
"Because Elena gave him some before she understood what he wanted.""
Nia looked at Vanessa.
"Is that why you came to my studio eleven months ago?""
Vanessa's expression changed.
Nia remembered that day.
The rain.
The smell of wet cardboard.
Vanessa standing in the doorway with two coffees and a folder full of sketches.
She had told Nia that she wanted to rebuild their partnership.
She had asked to see the rose-wing design.
Nia had trusted her.
She had shown her everything.
Vanessa looked away.
"Partly.""
"Partly?""
"I needed to find out whether you had inherited the original drawings.""
"And you stole them.""
"I was trying to recover what belonged to my family.""
"By destroying mine?""
Vanessa snapped.
"Your family had everything! A business, a home, a grandmother who loved you, parents who supported you! I had a man who spent my childhood telling me that my family had been robbed.""
Nia stared at her.
"You could have asked.""
Vanessa laughed.
"Would Eleanor have handed me the archive?""
Eleanor answered quietly.
"Yes.""
Vanessa looked at her.
The old woman continued.
"If you had come to me and told me who you were, I would have given you everything that belonged to your mother.""
Vanessa's face hardened.
"Convenient.""
"Not everything, Vanessa. But your mother's drawings. Her photographs.
Her personal belongings. All of it.""
Vanessa shook her head.
"You're lying.""
Eleanor opened the velvet pouch from the blue box.
Inside was a small silver locket.
She handed it to Vanessa.
"Your mother wore this when she was a little girl.""
Vanessa stared at it.
A tiny rose had been engraved on the front.
She opened it.
Inside was a photograph of a young Elena holding a baby.
Vanessa's fingers began trembling.
"Where did you get this?""
"Your mother gave it to me before she died.""
"Why?""
"She asked me to keep it safe until you were old enough to understand.""
Vanessa's eyes filled.
For a moment, the anger disappeared.
She looked like a little girl who had lost her mother.
Then her expression hardened again.
"You should have found me.""
Eleanor nodded.
"I should have.""
"Instead, you let Samuel raise me.""
"I didn't know where you were.""
"You never tried hard enough.""
Eleanor lowered her eyes.
"Perhaps you're right.""
Nia felt the weight of the moment.
She wanted to hate Vanessa.
But she could see the little girl behind the expensive suit.
The girl who had grown up believing her family had rejected her.
Still, that didn't erase what she had done.
"You stole from us," Nia said.
Vanessa looked at her.
"I know.""
"You sold the designs.""
"I know.""
"You used my trust to get into my studio.""
Vanessa said nothing.
"And you put my mother's veil inside Brianna's dress.""
Vanessa finally nodded.
"Yes.""
Nia's voice shook.
"Why?""
Vanessa looked at the red rose sketch.
"Because I wanted Eleanor to recognize it.""
"Why not just show her?""
"Because I wanted her to feel what I felt.""
Eleanor closed her eyes.
Vanessa continued.
"I wanted her to see the work she had spent her life protecting being worn by someone else. I wanted her to understand what it felt like to watch your family's history become a product.""
Nia stared at her.
"You used my career as revenge.""
Vanessa didn't deny it.
"And you knew the lace would be recognized?""
"Yes.""
"Then the entire confrontation was planned.""
"Not entirely.""
Vanessa looked toward the doorway.
"I didn't know Brianna would panic.""
Nia frowned.
"Why did you want Brianna involved?""
Vanessa smiled faintly.
"Because she had the money and the publicity.""
"And because you wanted her to take the blame.""
Vanessa's silence confirmed it.
Nia felt sick.
Before she could respond, the security officer's radio crackled.
"Sir, we have a situation outside.""
The officer stepped toward the doorway.
"What situation?""
"A vehicle has arrived. The driver says he's here for Miss Reed.""
Vanessa immediately looked up.
"Who?""
The officer listened again.
Then he looked at her.
"He says his name is Samuel Whitmore.""
Eleanor dropped her cane.
The sound struck the wooden floor.
"No.""
Nia turned.
"Grandma?""
Eleanor was staring at the doorway.
"He's dead.""
The officer checked the radio.
"Ma'am, he's standing outside.""
Vanessa rushed toward the entrance.
Nia caught her arm.
"Don't.""
"Let go.""
"Who is he?""
Vanessa's eyes were wide.
"My grandfather.""
"But you said he died.""
"He was declared dead seven years ago.""
Nia felt a chill.
Seven years ago.
The same year the archive disappeared.
The same year her father died.
The same year the forged documents were supposedly registered.
Eleanor whispered:
"He faked his death.""
The security officer returned.
"There's another problem.""
"What?"" Nia asked.
"The man outside is refusing to come in.""
"Why?""
The officer looked toward Vanessa.
"He says he won't speak to anyone except the owner of the original rose-wing design.""
Vanessa slowly turned toward Eleanor.
Then toward Nia.
And finally toward the sketch.
Nia picked it up.
"I'll speak to him.""
Eleanor grabbed her wrist.
"No, child.""
"Why?""
The old woman looked at the photograph of Elena.
"Because Samuel didn't just steal the archive.""
She swallowed.
"He took something else.""
"What?""
Eleanor's voice broke.
"Your mother.""
Nia froze.
"My mother is dead.""
Eleanor shook her head.
"That's what we were told.""
Vanessa backed away.
"No...""
Eleanor looked at Nia.
"Daniel never believed the body they buried belonged to Evelyn.""
Nia felt her knees weaken.
The security officer opened the door.
A tall elderly man stood outside in a dark overcoat.
His hair was silver.
His face was thin.
But his eyes were sharp.
He looked directly at Nia.
Then he smiled.
"Hello, Evelyn's daughter.""
Nia couldn't breathe.
The man stepped inside.
"My name is Samuel Whitmore.""
May you like
He glanced at the red rose sketch.
"And I've been waiting thirty years for someone to finish what your great-grandmother started.""
