Chapter 2: The Secret My Family Buried
For one second, I thought I had misunderstood her.
The hallway was quiet except for the hum of the air conditioner and the distant sound of a car passing outside.
Mom's face went pale.
Brianna noticed.
And that was when I knew the question wasn't accidental.
"What did Dad leave behind?"" I asked.
Mom stepped between us.
"Nothing. Brianna is tired and upset.""
Brianna let out a short, humorless laugh.
"You're still doing that?""
"Go downstairs," Mom snapped.
"Why? You're the one who said she didn't need to know.""
My fingers tightened around the hanger.
"Know what?""
Mom reached for the sketchbook on my desk.
I grabbed it before she could touch it.
"Don't.""
Her eyes flashed.
"Mia, give me that.""
"No. Tell me what she's talking about.""
Richard appeared at the top of the stairs, already dressed for work. His gaze moved from Mom's expression to the dress in my hands.
"What now?""
"Brianna says Dad left something behind," I said.
"What is it?""
Richard's jaw tightened.
"Your sister has a talent for stirring up trouble.""
Brianna laughed again.
"That's rich, coming from you.""
"Enough," Mom said.
But Brianna had already stepped into my room.
She pointed at the photograph inside my sketchbook.
"Do you know why Mom never liked you keeping his things?""
I stared at her.
"Because she thinks it's unhealthy to hold on to the past.""
"No," Brianna said.
"Because she doesn't want you asking questions.""
Mom grabbed her wrist.
"Downstairs. Now.""
Brianna pulled free.
"Fine. Keep pretending. But when she finds out, don't blame me.""
She stormed down the stairs.
Richard followed her, muttering that everyone was making a ridiculous situation out of nothing.
Mom remained in my doorway.
Her eyes were fixed on the photograph.
For a moment, she looked almost afraid.
Then she straightened her shoulders.
"Your father was a complicated man," she said.
I frowned.
"What does that have to do with anything?""
"You're too young to understand.""
"I'm seventeen, Mom. I'm not five.""
"Then stop behaving like a child.""
She turned to leave.
I stepped in front of her.
"Did Dad leave me something?""
Her silence answered before she did.
"Mia, the ceremony is in a few hours. Please don't do this today.""
"Do what? Ask you a question?""
"You have a beautiful dress. You should be happy.""
I looked down at the silver stars.
"I am happy with the dress. That doesn't mean I'm going to forget what Brianna said.""
Mom's expression hardened.
"Your sister says things she doesn't mean.""
"Then why did you look terrified?""
She stared at me.
For a moment, I thought she might finally tell me the truth.
Instead, she brushed past me.
"Get ready. We leave at ten.""
The door closed.
I stood there holding the dress and sketchbook, feeling as though my family had opened a door to a room I had never known existed, then slammed it shut before I could see inside.
I dressed carefully.
The white fabric felt cool against my skin. The silver embroidery caught the morning light, and the blue streaks looked almost luminous beneath the beads.
I pinned my hair back and applied a little makeup.
Then I tucked my father's photograph into the small inner pocket I had sewn into the dress.
I wasn't sure why.
Maybe I needed him with me.
Maybe I wanted proof that the man I remembered had been real.
At ten, Richard called from downstairs.
"Car's leaving in five minutes!""
I walked down the staircase.
Mom was waiting beside the front door, holding her purse. Richard checked his watch. Brianna sat on the bottom step in a pale pink dress, scrolling through her phone.
When she saw me, she stopped.
For a moment, she looked almost impressed.
Then she tilted her head.
"You actually made it look good.""
"Thank you," I said.
She blinked, apparently disappointed that I hadn't snapped back.
Mom opened the door.
"Let's go.""
The ceremony was being held at the community arts center, a beautiful old building with tall windows, polished wooden floors, and a courtyard filled with white roses.
My father had helped design the courtyard years earlier, back when the center was renovating its grounds.
He had believed every young person deserved a place to discover what they could become.
I had chosen the venue because of him.
Mom had objected, saying it was too sentimental.
Richard had called it inconvenient.
But the ceremony committee had agreed, and the center's director had personally approved my request.
When we arrived, volunteers were arranging chairs beneath the tall windows.
The smell of fresh flowers filled the entrance hall.
Girls in carefully pressed dresses greeted their families. Parents carried cameras and gift bags. Somewhere near the stage, a violinist was testing the strings of her instrument.
I took a breath.
This was supposed to be my day.
Not Brianna's.
Not Mom's.
Mine.
A woman with silver hair approached us.
"Mia?""
I turned.
"Ms. Evelyn!""
Evelyn Brooks was the director of the arts center. She had known my father for years and had helped me find a scholarship for the dressmaking course I had taken the previous summer.
She held both my hands.
"Look at you! Your father would have been so proud.""
My throat tightened.
"Thank you.""
Then she noticed the dress.
Her eyes widened.
"Is that the original design?""
I hesitated.
"Not exactly.""
She studied the blue streaks and silver embroidery.
"Tell me what happened.""
Before I could answer, Mom stepped forward.
"Just a little accident. Mia got creative.""
Evelyn looked at the dress again.
"Creative?""
I lowered my gaze.
"My sister spilled paint on it last night. I tried to repair it.""
Evelyn's expression changed.
"Spilled?""
Brianna, who had been standing behind Mom, suddenly became very interested in her phone.
Evelyn didn't press me.
Instead, she ran her fingers just above the embroidery without touching it.
"This is extraordinary work. Did you do all of this overnight?""
"Yes.""
She smiled warmly.
"Then you should be proud of yourself.""
I felt something loosen in my chest.
It was the first time that morning anyone had praised what I had done without making me feel foolish for caring.
Then Evelyn noticed the tiny constellation near my shoulder.
Her smile faded into quiet surprise.
"Orion," she whispered.
I looked at her.
"You recognize it?""
"Of course."" She glanced toward the photograph peeking from the inner pocket.
"Your father used to draw that constellation on everything. Napkins, receipts, the margins of his plans.""
She looked back at me.
"Did he teach you to sew?""
"No. He taught me to draw. I learned sewing at school.""
"Then he would have loved this.""
Mom cleared her throat.
"We should get Mia registered.""
Evelyn straightened.
"Of course. But before you go, I need to ask you something.""
She turned to Mom.
"Have you received the letter from the foundation?""
Mom's face changed instantly.
"What letter?""
Evelyn frowned.
"The notice regarding the scholarship trust. It was mailed to your home last month.""
Richard approached us.
"What scholarship trust?""
Evelyn looked between them.
For the first time, she seemed uncertain.
"I assumed you knew. It concerns the educational fund Daniel established for Mia.""
My father.
Daniel.
The name sounded strange in the middle of the crowded hall.
Mom's fingers tightened around her purse.
"There must be some mistake.""
Evelyn shook her head.
"No mistake. The fund was established years ago, and the final eligibility review is scheduled for this afternoon.""
I stared at her.
"Educational fund?""
Evelyn turned toward me.
"Your father wanted to make sure you had the opportunity to study design, regardless of what happened to him. He asked the foundation to keep the fund separate from his other affairs.""
My mouth went dry.
"How much money?""
Evelyn hesitated.
"That isn't something I should discuss in the hallway. But I can tell you that it was intended to cover your education and living expenses through university.""
Richard's face darkened.
Mom looked as if someone had pulled the floor out from under her.
I slowly turned toward her.
"You knew?""
She didn't answer.
"You knew Dad left me money?""
"Mia, this isn't the place.""
"How long have you known?""
She lowered her voice.
"Please. People are watching.""
I looked around.
They were.
A few guests had stopped talking. One of the volunteers pretended to rearrange a stack of programs while listening carefully.
I took a step closer to Mom.
"You let me skip lunch to save for a dress while money for my education was sitting somewhere with my name on it?""
"That's not what happened.""
"Then explain it.""
Richard grabbed my elbow.
"Not another word.""
I pulled away.
"Don't touch me.""
His face reddened.
"You're embarrassing your mother.""
Evelyn moved between us.
"Richard, I think Mia deserves an explanation.""
"This is a private family matter," he snapped.
"Not entirely," Evelyn replied.
"The trust is administered through the foundation.""
She turned to me.
"Mia, the review begins at three this afternoon. Your attendance was requested because you're the beneficiary.""
Beneficiary.
The word echoed in my head.
I looked at Mom.
She looked away.
Then Brianna suddenly spoke.
"She can't go to that meeting.""
Everyone turned toward her.
Her face was pale, but her voice had sharpened.
"Why not?"" I asked.
Brianna looked at Mom.
Mom's lips parted, but no words came out.
May you like
Then my sister said something that made Evelyn's expression turn cold.
"Because if Mia finds out what happened to Dad's money, she'll know who really took it.""
