Chapter 3: My Stepmother Had Been Selling My Father's Designs
My father stared at the photographs for nearly a minute.
Then he pushed the papers across the table.
“Where did you get these?””
Eleanor opened her folder.
“From the Carter archive. Daniel Reeves had copies before he died.””
I leaned closer.
The photographs showed a collection of gowns.
A dramatic red evening dress.
A silver bridal design.
A black velvet suit with embroidered lapels.
I recognized the style immediately.
My father's work.
His designs had always carried the same signature details: unexpected architectural lines, delicate hand embroidery, and sculptural shapes that seemed impossible until someone brought them to life.
I had studied those designs since childhood.
I could recognize them anywhere.
“Those are Dad's,” I whispered.
My father nodded.
“Some of them were never supposed to be released.””
Eleanor placed a second document beside the photographs.
“According to these records, Vanessa sold the collection to a European fashion group eight years ago.””
“Eight years?”” I repeated.
“Under a licensing agreement bearing your father's signature.””
My father shook his head.
“I never authorized that.””
Eleanor nodded.
“We know.””
I looked at the documents.
“Then why is Vanessa accusing me of stealing them?””
“Because the company recently discovered that the original archive contains missing sketches,” Eleanor explained.
“Vanessa is attempting to establish that someone else accessed the designs.””
“Someone else meaning me.””
“Exactly.””
I stood up.
“She knows I was in the building. She knows I was working on my gown. She's going to tell everyone I stole Dad's designs and copied them.””
My father looked at me carefully.
“Did you use any of my old sketches?””
I hesitated.
Then I nodded.
“Only one.””
He waited.
“When I was little, you drew a dress with two wings. I remembered it. I used the idea for my competition gown, but I changed everything else.””
My father's expression softened.
“Do you still have the original sketch?””
“Yes.””
“Where?””
“In my room.””
He smiled faintly.
“Then I want to see it.””
For the first time since I had discovered he was alive, I felt a small piece of the old relationship returning.
I could almost hear him asking me about the fabric.
The structure.
The stitches.
But the moment didn't last.
A loud knock came from the other side of the door.
“Open this door!””
Vanessa.
My father's expression hardened.
Eleanor immediately moved toward the entrance.
“Mr. Carter, we should not let her in without preparing—”
“Let her in.””
Eleanor stopped.
“Are you certain?””
“Yes.””
My father looked at me.
“Stay beside me.””
The door opened.
Vanessa entered with Brianna behind her.
Brianna was holding a phone, apparently recording.
The moment she saw my father, she froze.
Vanessa stopped walking.
For the first time in my life, I watched my stepmother lose control of her expression.
Her lips parted.
Her handbag slipped slightly from her shoulder.
The color drained from her face.
“No,” she whispered.
My father stood.
“Hello, Vanessa.””
She took one step backward.
“That's impossible.””
“Apparently not.””
Brianna looked between them.
“Mom? Who is that?””
Vanessa didn't answer.
She was staring at my father as though she had seen a ghost.
Then she recovered.
Her face hardened.
“This is a ridiculous stunt.””
My father said nothing.
Vanessa pointed toward me.
“Did you arrange this, Nia? Did you hire someone to impersonate your father?””
I stared at her.
“Why would I do that?””
“To manipulate the competition. To embarrass this family. You have always wanted attention.””
My father took a step forward.
“Enough.””
Vanessa's eyes snapped toward him.
“You don't get to tell me what to do.””
“I just did.””
Brianna lowered her phone slightly.
“Mom, who is he?””
Vanessa grabbed her daughter's arm.
“Don't speak.””
My father looked at Brianna.
“Hello, Brianna.””
She stared at him.
“Do I know you?””
He nodded.
“You were three when I last saw you.””
Brianna looked at Vanessa.
Then back at him.
“Mom?””
Vanessa suddenly straightened.
“You need to leave this building.””
My father almost smiled.
“It's my building.””
“Your building?”” Vanessa laughed nervously.
“You have been dead for ten years.””
“That's what you told everyone.””
“I buried you!””
“No,” he replied quietly.
“You buried someone.””
The room went silent.
Vanessa's fingers tightened around her handbag.
“You have no proof of anything.””
Eleanor stepped forward.
“Actually, Mrs. Carter, we have several documents that contradict your statements.””
Vanessa glanced at the folder.
Then at Eleanor.
“Who are you?””
“Eleanor Price. I worked with Daniel Reeves.””
The name changed everything.
Vanessa's face became rigid.
“Daniel is dead.””
“Yes,” Eleanor answered.
“But he left records.””
My father returned to his chair.
“Sit down, Vanessa.””
She remained standing.
“I have nothing to discuss with you.””
“Then perhaps we should discuss the company with the authorities.””
Vanessa's eyes narrowed.
“What are you accusing me of?””
“Forgery. Financial fraud. Unauthorized licensing of my designs. And potentially conspiring to conceal the circumstances of my accident.””
Brianna's phone slipped from her hand.
It hit the carpet.
Vanessa looked at my father for several seconds.
Then she laughed.
A cold, controlled laugh.
“You have been gone for ten years. You have no idea what happened here.””
“I know enough.””
“No, you don't.””
She pointed at me.
“Do you know what your precious daughter has done? She stole designs from the company archive and entered them into a competition.””
My father looked at me.
“She designed that gown herself.””
“She copied your work!””
“She used an idea I gave her when she was seven.””
Vanessa's expression twisted.
“And you expect everyone to believe that?””
My father opened his mouth.
But I spoke first.
“I didn't steal anything.””
Vanessa turned toward me.
“Don't interrupt adults.””
“I made that gown myself. Every seam. Every crystal.
Every feather. I worked on it for six months.””
“And yet it looks exactly like his work.””
I felt my cheeks burn.
“Because he's my father!””
The words echoed through the room.
For the first time, Brianna looked genuinely frightened.
My father rose slowly.
“Vanessa, you have spent ten years telling my daughter that she had no place in this family.””
Vanessa lifted her chin.
“She was a child. She needed discipline.””
“She needed a mother.””
“I was never her mother.””
My father stared at her.
“No. You were supposed to be the adult who protected her.””
Vanessa's expression remained cold.
“Don't pretend you were here to do that.””
My father didn't answer.
She continued.
“You abandoned us.””
“I was told you would hurt Nia if I returned.””
Vanessa laughed.
“Convenient.””
My father placed both hands on the table.
“Then tell me something. Why did you transfer company assets four days after my funeral?””
For a fraction of a second, Vanessa's eyes flickered.
Then she recovered.
“The company needed leadership.””
“You forged my signature.””
“Prove it.””
“We will.””
She looked at Eleanor.
“Those documents are worthless.””
Eleanor calmly opened the folder.
“Then you won't mind explaining why the original licensing agreement contains a signature dated two days before Mr. Carter's accident, while the bank records show the payment was transferred six days after his funeral.””
Vanessa said nothing.
Eleanor continued.
“And why the recipient company was registered under the name of your brother.””
Brianna turned toward her mother.
“Uncle Richard?””
Vanessa snapped.
“Be quiet!””
Brianna stepped away from her.
I watched the realization spread across her face.
She had always believed her mother was powerful because she was clever.
Now she was discovering that her mother might have been hiding something much worse.
Vanessa suddenly reached for the folder.
My father caught her wrist.
“Don't.””
She pulled away.
“You have no right!””
“I have every right.””
He looked toward Eleanor.
“Call the authorities.””
Vanessa's expression changed.
“Wait.””
For the first time, her voice carried fear.
She looked at my father.
Then at me.
And smiled.
A strange, deliberate smile.
“You really think bringing him back changes anything?””
My father remained silent.
Vanessa stepped closer to me.
“You should ask your father why he never told you the truth about your mother's death.””
My chest tightened.
“What?””
My father immediately moved between us.
“Vanessa, don't.””
But she kept looking at me.
“You were told your mother died from an illness, weren't you?””
I nodded slowly.
“She was sick.””
Vanessa tilted her head.
“That's what your father told you.””
I turned toward him.
“Dad?””
He looked as though someone had struck him.
“Nia, listen to me.””
“What is she talking about?””
Vanessa smiled again.
“Your mother didn't die the way you think she did.””
My father stepped toward her.
“Get out.””
Vanessa ignored him.
“She discovered something about the company. Something she was going to expose. And shortly afterward, she was gone.””
I felt the floor tilt beneath my feet.
“Dad?””
He reached for my hand.
But I pulled away.
“Tell me she's lying.””
His eyes filled with tears.
“I wanted to tell you when you were older.””
My voice became barely audible.
“Tell me she's lying.””
He closed his eyes.
Then whispered:
“Your mother was investigating the same people who tried to kill me.””
I couldn't breathe.
The room became painfully quiet.
Then Eleanor's phone rang.
She checked the screen.
Her expression changed immediately.
“Mr. Carter…”
My father looked at her.
“What is it?””
She turned the phone around.
A message had arrived from an unknown number.
It contained a photograph.
A photograph of my mother's old red notebook.
The notebook I had been told was lost after her death.
Beneath the photograph were seven words.
*WE KNOW YOUR DAUGHTER IS WITH YOU.*
My father grabbed the phone.
And for the first time since he had returned, he looked truly terrified.
Because the next message contained a photograph of me.
Taken only minutes earlier.
May you like
Inside the private room.
From somewhere outside the door.
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