Chapter 5: The Daughter They Buried
Vanessa stood frozen in the doorway.
My father looked furious.
But I was watching her.
Because she had just admitted that she knew about Camille's records.
And she had expected them to be destroyed.
“What records?”” I asked.
Vanessa immediately recovered.
“Nothing that concerns you.””
“You just said they were destroyed.””
“Richard, control your daughter.””
My father pointed toward the hallway.
“Nia, leave.””
“No.””
He stared at me.
I had never refused him before.
Not once.
But something had changed.
I wasn't the little girl waiting for him to come home anymore.
I was the daughter of the woman whose work he had stolen.
And I was finished being frightened of him.
“Tell me who Camille Brooks was.””
Vanessa walked toward me.
“Your mother was obsessed with that woman. She spent years interfering in Richard's business.””
“Was Camille Brielle's mother?””
Vanessa's lips tightened.
Then she looked at my father.
“Tell her.””
Richard didn't move.
“Vanessa.””
“I'm tired of this.””
She turned toward me.
“Yes. Camille Brooks gave birth to Brielle.””
The room seemed to become silent.
I waited for her to continue.
“She died shortly after the delivery,” Vanessa said.
“Richard brought the baby home. I raised her. I loved her. I gave her my name and everything she needed.””
“Why did you pretend she was your biological daughter?””
“Because she was my daughter.””
“But you lied.””
Vanessa's eyes flashed.
“I gave that child a home when her own mother couldn't.””
I looked at my father.
“Did my mother know?””
He turned away.
“Your mother had no right to interfere.””
“Did she know?””
“Yes.””
His answer was barely audible.
I felt sick.
“Then why did she keep it secret?””
Vanessa laughed bitterly.
“Because Elena always thought she was better than everyone else. She wanted to control every aspect of this family.””
“That isn't what Evelyn told me.””
Vanessa stepped forward.
“Of course she would defend Elena. They were partners. They were both bitter women who couldn't accept that Richard built something bigger without them.””
I shook my head.
“You didn't build it. My mother designed it.””
Vanessa's hand flew toward my face.
But this time I stepped back.
“Don't touch me.””
Her fingers remained suspended in the air.
My father slammed his palm against the desk.
“Enough!””
I looked at him.
“Where are Camille's records?””
He stared at me.
Then Vanessa answered.
“Ask your precious Evelyn.””
My father turned sharply.
“Vanessa, stop talking.””
She ignored him.
“Your mother kept a copy of everything. She was always preparing for some imaginary battle. She believed Richard had stolen her designs, stolen her company, stolen her life.””
“Did he?””
Vanessa's expression twisted.
“Your father gave your mother everything.””
I looked at the woman who had spent years humiliating me.
“And what did you give him?””
She went quiet.
I turned toward the door.
Behind me, my father said:
“If you continue this, you will lose your place in this family.””
I stopped.
Then I looked over my shoulder.
“Maybe I never had one.””
The following morning, Margaret Whitmore called me.
“Nia, we received some preliminary information from the original medical records office.””
I sat up in bed.
“About Brielle?””
“Yes. But there's another issue.””
“What?””
“The birth registration lists a second emergency contact. Someone who wasn't Richard or Camille.””
“Who?””
Margaret hesitated.
“Your mother.””
I stared at the phone.
“My mother was listed as an emergency contact?””
“Yes. And there is a handwritten note attached to the original file.””
“What does it say?””
Margaret took a breath.
“It says Elena Carter was authorized to collect the child if anything happened to Camille.””
I felt a chill.
“Why would Camille choose my mother?””
“Because they trusted each other.””
I looked toward the photograph on my desk.
My mother holding a baby.
Not me.
Brielle.
“Was she planning to raise Brielle?””
“We don't know. But she clearly wanted to protect her.””
I sat quietly.
Then Margaret continued.
“There's something else. The hospital record references a sealed medical envelope. It was transferred to a private attorney after Camille's death.””
“Can we find it?””
“We're trying.””
I looked down at my hands.
“What if my mother knew more than we're imagining?””
Margaret was silent for a moment.
“Then we need to find the original archive before Richard does.””
At noon, I received a message from an unknown number.
I know where the missing records are. Meet me at the old Carter warehouse. Come alone.
There was no signature.
I immediately called Evelyn.
She answered quickly.
“Nia?””
“Did you send me a message?””
“No.””
I read it to her.
She became quiet.
“Don't go.””
“Why?””
“Because that warehouse has been closed for years.””
“Do you know anything about Camille's records?””
Evelyn sighed.
“I know she kept a private ledger there. She was afraid Richard would discover it.””
“What was in it?””
“Names. Payments. Copies of financial transfers. And something connected to the company's original ownership.””
My heart raced.
“Could it prove what my father did?””
“Yes.””
I looked at the message again.
“Then I need to find it.””
“Nia, listen to me. Your mother once made the same mistake. She believed confronting Richard with evidence would make him confess.””
“What happened?””
“She lost everything.””
I swallowed.
“I won't.””
Evelyn sighed.
“Then don't go alone.””
The old Carter warehouse stood near the waterfront.
It had once been the company's first production facility.
Now its windows were boarded up, and weeds grew through cracks in the concrete.
I arrived shortly after sunset with Evelyn and a private security guard Margaret had arranged.
The message sender had not responded to my calls.
The building was dark.
Evelyn examined the entrance.
“This is where Camille used to work.””
I looked at the faded lettering above the door.
*CARTER & ROSE TEXTILE WORKS.*
My mother's name was still there.
Despite everything Richard had done, he had never bothered to remove the original sign.
We entered through a side door.
Dust covered the floor.
Old sewing machines stood beneath plastic sheets.
A broken clock hung above the production area.
Evelyn walked toward a metal staircase.
“The office was upstairs.””
We climbed.
At the end of the hallway stood a locked door.
I tried the silver key from my mother's dress.
It fit.
The lock turned.
Inside was a small office.
A desk.
A filing cabinet.
And a wall covered in old photographs.
I recognized my mother immediately.
She stood beside Camille in several pictures.
Both women were smiling.
One photograph showed them holding newborn Brielle.
I approached it.
On the back was a handwritten note.
Two girls. One family. May they never inherit our mistakes.
My throat tightened.
Evelyn read it over my shoulder.
“She loved both of you.””
I turned toward her.
“What do you mean?””
“Your mother believed you and Brielle deserved to grow up together. She never wanted the adults' mistakes to become your burden.””
I looked at the photograph again.
Then I noticed something strange.
The corner of the frame was slightly loose.
I removed it from the wall.
Behind the photograph was a narrow compartment.
Inside was a small black notebook.
I opened it.
The first pages contained names and dates.
Then I found a series of bank transfers.
Large sums of money had been moved from Carter & Rose into accounts registered under a company called RC Holdings.
The initials were familiar.
Richard Carter.
Evelyn leaned closer.
“That's it.””
I turned another page.
There were handwritten notes.
Some referred to payments made to suppliers.
Others referred to legal fees.
Then I found a page with Camille's name.
Beside it was a date.
The day before she died.
Underneath, someone had written:
Camille has the original transfer documents. Richard must recover them before Elena finds out.
My hands went cold.
“Who wrote this?””
Evelyn examined the handwriting.
“I don't know.””
I turned the page.
A second note appeared.
Vanessa will handle the situation.
I looked at Evelyn.
“What situation?””
Before she could answer, a loud crash came from downstairs.
The security guard rushed toward the door.
“Stay here!””
Evelyn grabbed my arm.
“Someone's inside.””
Footsteps echoed through the warehouse.
Then a man's voice.
“Search the office!””
I recognized it.
One of my father's senior executives.
Martin Hale.
He had worked at Carter Fashion House for more than fifteen years.
He was also the man responsible for overseeing Brielle's collection.
Evelyn whispered:
“Hide the notebook.””
I slipped it inside my jacket.
The office door suddenly opened.
Martin stood in the doorway.
Two men were behind him.
His eyes moved from Evelyn to me.
Then he smiled.
“Miss Carter. What an unpleasant surprise.””
“What are you doing here?””
He stepped inside.
“I'm here to retrieve company property.””
“This isn't company property.””
He looked at the notebook.
“I believe that belongs to us.””
I stepped backward.
“It's evidence.””
Martin's smile disappeared.
“You really should stop listening to old women.””
Evelyn moved between us.
“Get out, Martin.””
He ignored her.
Then he looked at me.
“Your father has offered you a generous opportunity to return home quietly. Why are you making things difficult?””
“Because I know what he did.””
Martin laughed.
“You know nothing.””
“Then why are you trying to take this notebook?””
His jaw tightened.
He reached toward me.
The security guard appeared behind him.
“Step away from her.””
Martin stopped.
For a few seconds, nobody moved.
Then he backed toward the hallway.
“This isn't over.””
He disappeared downstairs with his men.
The guard followed them out.
Evelyn locked the door.
I looked at the notebook.
“We need to get this to Margaret.””
Evelyn nodded.
But before we left, I noticed a small envelope tucked inside the filing cabinet.
It was addressed to Camille.
I opened it.
Inside was a letter written by my mother.
Camille,
If anything happens to you, I will protect your daughter. Richard must never be allowed to use her as a bargaining chip.
There is something I have discovered about Vanessa. She knows about the transfers, and I believe she has been helping Richard conceal them.
I am afraid she may do something desperate.
Please trust me.
Elena.
I read it twice.
Then I looked at Evelyn.
“Vanessa knew about the financial fraud before Camille died.””
Evelyn nodded slowly.
“And your mother believed she might do something desperate.””
I folded the letter carefully.
We left the warehouse and drove directly to Margaret's office.
Margaret examined the notebook for nearly an hour.
Daniel photographed every page and arranged for the original documents to be secured.
Then Margaret found something we hadn't noticed.
A folded page attached to the back cover.
It contained a list of payments.
One was made to a private medical facility.
The amount was unusually large.
The date was two days after Camille's death.
I stared at the entry.
“Why would Richard pay a medical facility after she died?””
Margaret looked at the document.
“Perhaps it was connected to the medical records.””
“Can we find out?””
Daniel nodded.
“I'll have our legal team investigate.””
Margaret turned toward me.
“Nia, I think we have enough evidence to challenge the company's ownership claims. But we need to be prepared for retaliation.””
I looked at her.
“They already destroyed my dress.””
“Then we make sure they cannot destroy your mother's legacy.””
I nodded.
Margaret opened her laptop.
“The gala is in three days. Richard expects me to sign the acquisition agreement there.””
I stared at the screen.
“Are you going to sign it?””
She smiled faintly.
“No.””
“Then what?””
She closed the laptop.
“I'm going to ask your father to explain why the woman who supposedly had no role in building his company owns half of its original intellectual property.””
I felt a small sense of relief.
But it didn't last.
My phone began vibrating.
Brielle.
I answered.
“Hello?””
Her voice was trembling.
“Nia, where are you?””
“I'm with Margaret. What's wrong?””
“Come home.””
“Why?””
She started crying.
“Because Mom found the hospital photograph.””
I stood.
“What photograph?””
“The one of Camille holding me.””
My stomach tightened.
“What happened?””
Brielle took a shaky breath.
“Mom said she's going to tell everyone what really happened the night Camille died.””
Then she whispered:
“And she said if I don't help her, she'll make sure I never become creative director.””
I gripped the phone.
“Brielle, listen to me. You don't have to protect her.””
There was a long silence.
Then she said something that made my blood run cold.
“Nia, I found another photograph.””
“What photograph?””
“One of you.””
I froze.
“Me?””
“Yes.””
Her voice broke.
“It's dated three days after Camille died.””
I couldn't breathe.
“That doesn't make sense.””
“I know.””
“Where was it taken?””
“At the hospital.””
I stared at Margaret.
Brielle continued.
“You were standing beside my crib. And Mom was holding your hand.””
I closed my eyes.
My mother had been there.
Not just for Brielle.
May you like
For me, too.
And if the photograph was real, it meant there was something about the night Camille died that nobody had told us.
