Chapter 4: The Secret Behind My Mother's Photograph
I read the message three times.
*Ask Arthur Sterling what happened to Grace Carter.*
For several seconds, I couldn't move.
The photograph showed my mother sitting at her old sewing machine, wearing the pale blue blouse she loved so much. Her hair was tied back, and she was smiling at someone standing outside the frame.
I recognized the room immediately.
It was the tiny sewing room behind our old kitchen.
But there was something I had never seen before.
On the table beside her lay a black leather folder bearing a familiar silver logo.
The Sterling Fashion International logo.
My fingers went cold.
Why would my mother have anything belonging to Sterling?
And who had taken that photograph?
I looked around the corridor.
Chloe and Madison were gone.
I quickly called the unknown number.
It rang once.
Twice.
Then someone answered.
"Hello?""
A woman's voice.
"Who is this?""
Silence.
"Who sent me that photograph?""
The woman breathed heavily.
"You're Grace Carter's daughter, aren't you?""
"Yes. How do you know my mother?""
Another pause.
"Because I worked with her.""
My heart began pounding.
"Where?""
"Twenty-five years ago, at Sterling Fashion International.""
I leaned against the wall.
"That's impossible. My mother was a seamstress. She never told me she worked here.""
"She didn't tell you everything, sweetheart.""
"Who are you?""
"My name is Eleanor Hayes. I used to be the head pattern maker.""
I remembered seeing that name on an old photograph in Arthur Sterling's office.
Eleanor Hayes had been one of the company's original employees.
"Why are you contacting me now?""
"Because I saw what happened to you today.""
My stomach tightened.
"You were here?""
"I still have friends in the building. They told me Arthur found your design.""
I looked toward his office.
"How did you know my mother?""
Eleanor lowered her voice.
"Your mother wasn't just a seamstress, Maya. She was one of the most gifted designers this company ever had.""
I stopped breathing.
"What?""
"She created a collection that was supposed to change the entire company. But someone stole it.""
I gripped my phone.
"Who?""
Before Eleanor could answer, I heard a car horn in the background.
Then she whispered:
"Don't trust everyone in that building. Especially the people who were there when your mother disappeared from the fashion industry.""
The call ended.
I stared at the screen.
My mother had designed for Sterling?
Someone had stolen her work?
And Arthur knew?
I wanted to run back into his office and demand answers.
But another thought stopped me.
What if he was involved?
The next morning, I arrived at Sterling Fashion International at eight fifteen.
I wore my cleanest black trousers, a cream blouse, and the only pair of shoes I owned that didn't have visible scratches.
I carried a new notebook.
My old portfolio was still missing.
But I had spent the night redrawing some of the designs from memory.
I wasn't going to let anyone take my dream away again.
At the reception desk, a woman named Olivia waved.
"Maya!""
I smiled.
"Good morning.""
She came around the desk and hugged me.
"I heard what happened. Are you okay?""
"A little sore, but I'm fine.""
Olivia looked toward the elevators.
"Vanessa hasn't come in today.""
"Really?""
"Her access has been suspended pending an investigation.""
I nodded.
Olivia lowered her voice.
"People are talking about you.""
I looked uncomfortable.
"Good things?""
"Mostly. Some people are saying you're Arthur Sterling's new favorite.""
I sighed.
"I just want to work.""
"Then you're in the right place.""
She handed me a visitor badge.
"This time, it's permanent.""
I laughed softly.
For the first time, the building didn't feel quite so frightening.
My new workspace was on the twenty-second floor.
It was a small desk near the main design studio, with a computer, a lamp, and a large corkboard.
There were already fabric samples waiting for me.
A woman with short auburn hair approached.
"You're Maya?""
"Yes.""
"I'm Claire Bennett. Senior collection designer.""
I immediately stood.
"Nice to meet you.""
Claire shook my hand.
"Arthur asked me to supervise your first assignment.""
"Thank you for giving me the opportunity.""
She smiled.
"Don't thank me yet. I hear you have some interesting ideas.""
She pointed toward a large table.
"Show me what you've been working on.""
I opened my notebook.
For the next hour, I explained my silver-and-black gown.
Claire listened carefully.
She examined my sketches, asked about construction, and studied the proportions.
Then she pulled a chair closer.
"Where did you learn to create patterns like this?""
"My mother taught me basic sewing. I learned the rest through online courses and practice.""
Claire picked up one of my drawings.
"This sleeve is unusual.""
"I wanted it to move like a wing when the wearer walks.""
"Have you tested the construction?""
"Not yet, but I have a few ideas.""
Claire nodded.
"Good. Let's make a prototype.""
I couldn't hide my excitement.
"Really?""
"Really. But I want you to understand something.""
She placed the sketch on the table.
"Nobody here is going to hand you success. You'll have to earn it every day.""
"I understand.""
"Good. Then let's get started.""
For the next several hours, I worked with the technical team.
We selected a structured silver fabric, black silk embroidery thread, and a lightweight material for the train.
I was so absorbed in the process that I barely noticed lunchtime passing.
Then a shadow fell across my desk.
I looked up.
A tall man in a navy suit stood beside Claire.
"Miss Carter?""
I recognized him immediately.
Arthur Sterling.
I stood.
"Good afternoon, sir.""
"How is the project progressing?""
Claire smiled.
"She's already thinking about the construction details. I believe the design has potential.""
Arthur looked at me.
"Have you had a chance to review the original collection archive?""
I frowned.
"Which archive?""
He glanced at Claire.
"Show her the historical design room.""
Claire nodded.
"Of course.""
Arthur started to walk away.
Then I remembered the photograph.
"Mr. Sterling?""
He turned.
"Yes?""
I hesitated.
"Can I ask you something personal?""
His expression became guarded.
"Certainly.""
I took out my phone.
"Do you recognize this woman?""
I showed him the photograph.
For a moment, his face became completely still.
His eyes moved from the photograph to mine.
"Where did you get this?""
"Someone sent it to me yesterday.""
"Who?""
"I don't know.""
Arthur took the phone.
He studied the image for several seconds.
Then he returned it.
"That is Grace Carter.""
"I know. She's my mother.""
His jaw tightened.
"I see.""
"Mr. Sterling, did she work here?""
He didn't answer immediately.
Claire looked between us.
Arthur finally spoke.
"Yes. Your mother worked here.""
My heart began beating faster.
"Why didn't she ever tell me?""
"That is a question you should have asked her.""
"She's dead, sir.""
The words came out sharper than I intended.
Arthur lowered his eyes.
"I'm sorry.""
I swallowed.
"Someone told me she designed a collection here. Someone said her work was stolen.""
Arthur looked toward the glass windows.
"Who told you that?""
"Eleanor Hayes.""
His expression changed.
"Eleanor contacted you?""
"Yes.""
He was silent for a long moment.
Then he said:
"Your mother was an extraordinary woman, Maya. But what happened twenty-five years ago is complicated.""
"What happened?""
Arthur looked directly at me.
"Not everything in this company was built honestly.""
My chest tightened.
"Are you saying someone stole her designs?""
He didn't answer.
Instead, he turned toward Claire.
"Give Miss Carter access to the historical design archive. Everything from the year Grace left.""
Then he looked back at me.
"And Maya, I want you to finish your gown before you investigate anything else.""
"Why?""
"Because your mother deserves to be remembered for what she created, not only for what was done to her.""
He walked away.
I stood there, confused.
Claire touched my arm.
"Come on. I'll show you the archive.""
The historical design room was located on the twenty-fourth floor.
It was a quiet space with floor-to-ceiling shelves, old photographs, fabric books, and boxes of original sketches.
Claire unlocked the door.
"Most of this material hasn't been touched in years.""
I walked slowly between the shelves.
Then I saw a framed photograph.
A group of young designers standing in front of a runway.
I moved closer.
My mother was in the center.
She looked younger, but unmistakably herself.
Beside her stood Arthur Sterling.
And on the other side was a handsome man wearing a dark suit.
I read the name beneath the photograph.
*Victor Sterling — Creative Director, 2001.*
I turned toward Claire.
"Who is Victor Sterling?""
Claire's expression changed.
"Arthur's younger brother.""
"Where is he now?""
"He's still part of the company. He oversees the international licensing division.""
I looked back at the photograph.
My mother was standing between the two brothers, holding a silver dress.
The same silver dress.
The same design language.
My hands began to tremble.
"Claire?""
"Yes?""
"Do you know why my mother left?""
Claire shook her head.
"Not really. I joined the company much later.""
I studied the photograph.
Then I noticed something written on the back of its frame.
A date.
And a handwritten note.
Grace Carter — Collection of the Year.
I took a picture.
Then I heard footsteps outside.
A man entered the room.
He was in his early sixties, with silver hair, an expensive watch, and a perfectly fitted dark suit.
His eyes settled on me.
Then on the photograph.
His expression hardened.
"What are you doing here?""
Claire immediately straightened.
"Mr. Victor Sterling. This is Maya Carter. She's joining the design team.""
Victor stared at me.
"Carter?""
"Yes, sir.""
He looked at the photograph again.
Then he said something that made my blood run cold.
"You're Grace's daughter?""
I nodded.
May you like
He gave a thin smile.
"Well, isn't that unfortunate.""
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