Chapter 4
I wanted to run downstairs and confront Brianna immediately.
Maya stopped me.
"Don't give her time to destroy anything else."
I looked at the empty drawer.
"My entire folder is gone."
"I know."
"She forged my signature!"
"I know, Nia. But we need to think."
Camille was still on the phone.
I took a shaky breath.
"Can you send me a copy of that withdrawal letter?"
"Yes," she replied. "And I want you to know the committee has not accepted it."
Relief washed through me.
"Thank you."
"There's something else."
My stomach tightened.
"The signature was witnessed by someone claiming to be your parent or guardian."
I already knew what she was going to say.
"Vanessa?"
"Vanessa Carter."
I closed my eyes.
Camille continued.
"Our legal office is reviewing the document. Please preserve anything that may help establish what happened."
"I will."
"And Nia?"
"Yes?"
"Don't withdraw. We want to see what you create."
For the first time all day, I smiled.
"I won't."
After we hung up, Maya immediately emailed me copies of everything we'd collected.
The security video.
The photograph.
The messages.
The email from Camille.
Then she turned to me.
"We need an adult who will actually help."
I almost laughed.
"Where am I supposed to find one?"
"Your Aunt Lorraine."
I looked up.
My mother's older sister.
Aunt Lorraine lived forty minutes away.
She was a retired school counselor with a voice that could silence an entire room.
After Mom died, she'd visited constantly.
But Vanessa gradually made those visits uncomfortable.
Then my father began canceling family dinners.
Eventually, Lorraine stopped coming.
I hadn't seen her in almost four months.
"Call her," Maya said.
I hesitated.
Lorraine had warned my father about Vanessa years ago.
He accused her of interfering.
They'd barely spoken since.
But I remembered how she used to hug me.
How she'd call me her little butterfly.
I pressed her number.
She answered after the second ring.
"Nia?"
The warmth in her voice almost broke me.
"Auntie?"
"Baby, what's wrong?"
I started crying.
I told her everything.
Not just the dress.
Not just the stolen sketches.
Everything.
The insults.
The punishments.
The money Brianna took from my bedroom.
The times Vanessa told me my mother would be disappointed in me.
The birthdays when I sat alone while they went shopping.
Lorraine didn't interrupt.
When I finished, her voice was very quiet.
"Pack a bag."
I blinked.
"What?"
"Your clothes. Your documents. Anything important."
"Auntie—"
"I'm coming."
She ended the call.
Maya stared at me.
"Well?"
"She's coming."
"Good."
We packed my birth certificate, my mother's photographs, and the small jewelry box she had left me.
I also packed the original sketch of the new gown.
Then we returned to work.
I refused to lose another hour.
By early evening, the bodice was taking shape.
The damaged silver satin had become a series of overlapping panels.
I used turquoise embroidery to join the seams.
Every cut Brianna made was being transformed into something new.
Then someone pounded on the door.
"Nia! Open up!"
Brianna.
Maya rolled her eyes.
I remained at the machine.
"What do you want?"
"Mom says you need to come downstairs."
"I'm busy."
The handle rattled.
"Unlock this door!"
I looked at Maya.
She quietly started recording on her phone.
I opened the door.
Brianna stormed inside.
She glanced at Maya, then at the dress.
Her face twisted.
"You're still working on that ugly thing?"
I didn't respond.
She stepped closer to the table.
"Mom told me you're spreading lies about us."
"What lies?"
"Don't play stupid."
She reached toward the fabric.
I moved in front of her.
"Don't touch my work."
Brianna laughed.
"Or what?"
I looked directly at her.
"Or I'll show Dad exactly what you did this morning."
Her smile faded.
For the first time, she looked uncertain.
"What are you talking about?"
"The camera."
She went still.
I watched the realization spread across her face.
Then she recovered.
"You're bluffing."
"Try me."
Brianna took one step back.
Then Vanessa appeared.
"What's going on?"
Brianna turned immediately.
"Mom, she's threatening me!"
Vanessa looked at Maya.
"You need to leave."
Maya stood.
"I'm here as Nia's guest."
"This is my house."
A cold voice spoke behind her.
"No, Vanessa. It isn't."
Everyone turned.
Aunt Lorraine stood in the hallway.
She wore a navy coat and carried a large handbag.
Her silver-streaked braids were pulled into a neat bun.
She looked at Vanessa the way a judge looks at someone caught lying under oath.
Vanessa stiffened.
"Lorraine. What are you doing here?"
"Checking on my niece."
"She's fine."
Lorraine glanced at my red eyes.
Then at the torn fabric.
"She doesn't look fine."
Vanessa crossed her arms.
"This is a family matter."
Lorraine stepped inside.
"Nia is my family."
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Then Lorraine turned to me.
"Show me."
I played the camera footage.
Vanessa's expression changed almost immediately.
Brianna stared at the floor.
Lorraine watched the entire recording.
Twice.
Then she looked at Vanessa.
"You stood there and let your daughter destroy something Nia made?"
Vanessa lifted her chin.
"It was an unfortunate misunderstanding."
"Don't insult me."
Vanessa's mouth fell open.
Lorraine stepped closer.
"You knew that child was working on this dress. You knew how much it meant to her."
"You're overreacting."
"No. I've been underreacting for years."
My eyes filled again.
Vanessa glanced toward the hallway.
"Richard won't appreciate you interfering."
Lorraine smiled without warmth.
"Then call him."
Vanessa hesitated.
Lorraine reached into her handbag.
"I already did."
My heart jumped.
"He's coming home," she said.
Brianna suddenly looked frightened.
But Lorraine wasn't finished.
She placed a large envelope on the table.
"Nia, there's something your mother asked me to give you when you graduated."
I stared at it.
"My mother?"
Lorraine nodded.
"I was going to wait until the ceremony."
She looked at Vanessa.
"But I think you need it now."
I opened the envelope.
Inside was a handwritten letter.
And a document bearing my mother's signature.
I read the heading.
PROPERTY TRUST AGREEMENT.
My hands began to shake.
Then I read the first paragraph.
The house we were standing in had never belonged to Vanessa.
It hadn't even belonged entirely to my father.
May you like
My mother had placed it in a trust.
And when I turned eighteen, ownership would transfer to me.
