Chapter 7: The Girl Who Vanished
"Brianna has disappeared.""
The competition coordinator's words followed me down the attic stairs like a warning.
"What do you mean, disappeared?"" I asked.
"She was at the theater yesterday.""
"She left the venue this morning. Her mother says she hasn't returned home, and nobody has been able to reach her.""
I glanced toward the front windows.
Vanessa's car was gone.
"Did she take anything with her?""
There was a pause.
"The competition's legal adviser discovered that several documents were removed from the backstage office overnight. One of them was your original authorship complaint.""
My stomach tightened.
"Why would Brianna take that?""
"We don't know. Nia, I need you to come in and confirm whether anything else is missing from your submission file.""
"I can't. I'm meeting Adrian Vale at two.""
"Mr. Vale is already aware of the situation. His office called us a few minutes ago.""
I stopped walking.
"Why would he call you?""
"Because someone sent him an anonymous message claiming that the Phoenix Gown was never your mother's design in the first place.""
The silence between us stretched.
Then she added, "They attached a photograph of a document bearing your mother's signature.""
My fingers went cold.
"What document?""
"We're trying to verify it. That's why I need you here.""
The call ended.
I stood at the bottom of the staircase, staring at my phone.
Maya appeared behind me.
"What happened?""
I told her.
She looked toward the attic.
"Someone is trying to destroy the evidence before we can put the pieces together.""
"But why disappear?""
"Maybe Brianna knows something. Maybe she's scared.""
I thought of the way Brianna had screamed onstage, the way her confidence had crumbled when the original registration appeared on the giant screen.
For the first time, I wondered whether she had simply followed Vanessa's instructions without understanding what they meant.
That thought didn't excuse what she'd done.
But it changed the questions I needed to ask.
I called Brianna.
Her phone rang six times before going to voicemail.
I tried again.
Nothing.
Then I sent a message.
Brianna, I don't know where you are, but if Mom is threatening you or someone is pressuring you, tell me. I'm not trying to hurt you. I need the truth.
The message was delivered.
No reply came.
At one thirty, Maya and I arrived at Vale International's headquarters.
The building towered over the surrounding streets, its glass exterior reflecting the gray October sky. A receptionist escorted us to a private elevator without asking for identification.
On the thirty-second floor, Daniel was waiting.
"Miss Carter. Mr. Vale is expecting you.""
He led us into a spacious office overlooking the city.
Adrian stood beside a conference table covered in documents. A woman with silver hair sat at the far end, reviewing a stack of photographs.
"Thank you for coming," Adrian said.
His gaze moved to the leather notebook in my hands.
"Is that Elena's?""
"Yes. I found it in the false bottom of her trunk.""
He stepped closer but didn't reach for it.
"May I?""
I handed it to him.
He opened the cover carefully.
The moment he saw my mother's handwriting, his expression changed.
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he sat down.
"I haven't seen her handwriting in seventeen years.""
I watched him turn the pages.
When he reached the final entry, his fingers stopped.
"Evelyn Shaw," he murmured.
"You knew her?""
"She was a senior researcher at Bellamy when your mother attended. She helped evaluate student collections and maintain the design archive.""
"Mom wrote that she betrayed her.""
Adrian looked up.
"Your mother trusted Evelyn. She believed Evelyn would protect the original sketches when Vanessa accused her of plagiarism.""
"Did she?""
"No.""
He closed the notebook.
"But I need evidence before I accuse anyone of anything.""
The silver-haired woman introduced herself as Margaret Ellis, an independent forensic archivist who had worked with several fashion institutions.
She spread a collection of photographs across the table.
"These are copies of the Bellamy records we have been able to recover," she explained.
"Most of the original files are still sealed, but the institute's backup system retained several access logs.""
I leaned forward.
"What do they show?""
Margaret placed one photograph in front of me.
It showed a page from a design ledger.
Two sketches were visible, both depicting elegant gowns with sweeping, translucent panels.
The first was signed Elena Carter.
The second bore Vanessa Whitmore's name.
"The designs are similar," Margaret said.
"But similarity alone doesn't establish theft. We need to know which sketch was created first, whether the original files were altered, and who had access to them.""
She turned the page.
A timestamp was printed beside Elena's sketch.
October 8, 2009.
Beside Vanessa's, October 19, 2009.
My heart began to race.
"Mom's design came first.""
"According to this copy, yes," Margaret replied.
"But the official submission records show a different sequence. Vanessa's design was supposedly submitted on October 6.""
"Two days before Mom drew hers?""
Margaret nodded.
"That discrepancy is precisely why we need the original ledger.""
Adrian stood and walked toward the window.
"The institute's board closed the investigation before the original records could be independently examined. I've requested access for years. Each time, someone invoked the confidentiality agreement.""
"Who signed it?""
Margaret slid another document toward me.
The signature belonged to a former Bellamy trustee.
Below it was a second signature authorizing the restriction.
Marcus Carter.
My father.
I stared at the page.
"He signed the order sealing the evidence?""
Adrian's expression was grim.
"Yes.""
"Why?""
"I don't know.""
"He's my father. He told me he was trying to protect Mom.""
Adrian turned from the window.
"Perhaps he believed that. But the records were sealed long after your mother left Bellamy. Someone wanted the evidence to remain inaccessible.""
I thought of Dad's confession.
His fear.
His shame.
The way he had looked at Vanessa when I found the report.
I couldn't tell whether he was a coward who had spent seventeen years regretting his choices or a man who had helped bury a crime.
Maybe he was both.
Margaret picked up another sheet.
"There is something else. The access logs show that the Bellamy archive was opened three times in the months following Elena's departure.""
"By whom?"" I asked.
"The first access was made under Evelyn Shaw's credentials. The second was made under a temporary administrative account. The third was made using Marcus Carter's authorization.""
I stared at the dates.
The final access had occurred six months after my birth.
Dad had returned to Bellamy after I was born.
And he had accessed the archive.
"Can we find out what he took?"" I asked.
"Not yet," Margaret replied.
"The record lists the files he accessed, but not whether he printed, copied, or removed them.""
Adrian returned to the table.
"We'll obtain the original ledger. Until then, no one should make public accusations.""
I nodded, though my thoughts were racing.
Then Daniel entered the room.
He approached Adrian and whispered something.
Adrian's face hardened.
"What is it?""
Daniel placed a phone on the table.
"Someone sent this to the office's secure line.""
The screen showed a video message.
Brianna appeared in a dimly lit room, her face pale and her eyes red.
She was no longer wearing the Phoenix Gown.
Instead, she wore a gray sweatshirt and held a sheet of paper in trembling hands.
"Nia," she said, looking directly into the camera.
"If you're seeing this, I need you to listen carefully.""
Maya moved closer.
Brianna swallowed.
"I know what I did was wrong. I stole your dress. I lied about designing it. I let everyone believe I made something you spent eleven weeks creating.""
She wiped her cheek.
"But Mom told me the gown was based on a design she had stolen from someone else. She said it was safe to use because the original designer could never prove ownership.""
I felt sick.
Brianna continued.
"I believed her. I wanted to win. I wanted people to look at me the way they look at you when you make something beautiful.""
Her voice broke.
"That doesn't excuse what I did.""
She looked down at the paper.
"Last night, I found a folder in Mom's office. It contained the original Bellamy investigation records. Some of them were marked confidential. Others had handwritten notes in Dad's handwriting.""
Adrian leaned toward the screen.
Brianna lifted the page.
"I found this letter. It says Dad was supposed to deliver the original design ledger to someone named Evelyn Shaw. But the ledger was never delivered.""
She looked up.
"Someone has been lying to all of us.""
A noise sounded behind her.
Brianna flinched and glanced toward the door.
Then she whispered, "I don't know who I can trust anymore.""
The video ended.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then Daniel examined the message details.
"There's no location metadata. The video was uploaded through a public connection.""
"Can you trace it?"" Adrian asked.
"We're trying.""
I stared at the frozen image of my stepsister.
For years, Brianna had been the person who made my life miserable. She had laughed at my clothes, taken my belongings, and treated my work as if it existed for her convenience.
But someone had taught her that my work was available to steal.
Someone had convinced her that the world would reward her for taking what belonged to another girl.
And now she was afraid.
"I need to find her," I said.
Adrian shook his head.
"Not alone.""
"She's my stepsister.""
"That doesn't mean you should put yourself in danger.""
"I'm not going to let her disappear while everyone argues over old documents.""
Maya touched my shoulder.
"We can help without doing something reckless.""
I looked at Adrian.
"Can you find her?""
He glanced toward Daniel.
"Use every lawful resource available. Contact the people who can help locate her, and make sure the competition's legal team preserves the original records.""
Daniel nodded and left.
Margaret gathered the documents.
"If Brianna has the missing letter, we need to examine it. The handwriting, paper, and dates could establish whether it's authentic.""
I opened my mother's notebook again.
There was a folded corner on the final page I'd overlooked.
Beneath it, in faint pencil, was a small handwritten note.
The second ledger is with Marcus. He knows what happened to the first.
I read it twice.
Adrian watched my face.
"What is it?""
I showed him the note.
His expression turned grave.
"Your mother believed your father had the ledger.""
"Then we need to ask him.""
Before Adrian could answer, my phone rang.
Dad.
I picked up immediately.
"Nia, where are you?""
"With Adrian.""
A sharp breath came through the line.
"Come home. Now.""
"Why?""
"Because Vanessa has returned, and she's brought someone with her.""
"Who?""
My father lowered his voice.
"Someone from Bellamy. They say they have evidence that your mother stole the Phoenix design from Vanessa.""
I looked at the photographs spread across the table.
"That's impossible. The Phoenix Gown is my original design.""
"I know.""
The certainty in his voice startled me.
Then he added, "But they have a document with your mother's signature on it.""
I closed my eyes.
"Don't let them take anything.""
"Nia, there's something else.""
His voice cracked.
"The document says your mother signed the design over to Vanessa before she died.""
I gripped the phone.
"She didn't.""
"I know," he whispered.
"Because I saw the original contract.""
I stood frozen.
"Where is it?""
Dad was silent for a moment.
May you like
Then he said, "Hidden with the second ledger.""
And before I could ask where, the line went dead.
