Chapter 2
I looked from Vanessa to my mother.
"Supposed to be what?"
Neither of them answered.
Marcus moved closer to me.
"Nia, what's going on?"
I wished I knew.
Mom pulled the ivory gown farther out of its protective covering.
The gold embroidery shimmered along the neckline.
It was breathtaking.
But Vanessa wasn't admiring it.
She was staring at my mother with pure hatred.
"You promised," she whispered.
Mom stiffened.
"Vanessa."
"You promised me!"
Her voice rose so suddenly that I flinched.
I looked at Mom.
"What is she talking about?"
Mom took a slow breath.
"Your grandmother left specific instructions about this dress."
Vanessa laughed bitterly.
"That's a lie."
"Lower your voice."
"No!"
Vanessa pointed at the gown.
"You told me that was mine!"
My stomach tightened.
I turned toward Mom.
"Did you?"
She looked uncomfortable.
"Not exactly."
Vanessa stepped closer.
"Don't you dare."
Mom's expression changed.
"I told you the dress would remain in the family."
"You told me I could wear it!"
"I said we would discuss it when the time came."
Vanessa's eyes filled with angry tears.
"And then you gave it to her."
I looked at the dress again.
I had never seen it before.
Grandma Evelyn died five years earlier.
She had been the heart of our family.
Every Sunday, she cooked enough food for the entire neighborhood.
She loved music.
She loved flowers.
And she loved telling stories about the old days.
When I was a child, I used to sit beside her while she sewed.
She taught me how to thread a needle.
How to repair a button.
How to turn a torn piece of fabric into something beautiful.
I remembered her telling me that every stitch carried a memory.
But I never knew she had saved a wedding gown for me.
"Why didn't anybody tell me?"
Mom looked at me sadly.
"Because your grandmother wanted it to be a surprise."
Vanessa scoffed.
"Convenient."
Marcus crossed his arms.
"None of this explains why you threw paint on Nia."
Vanessa's face hardened.
"Stay out of family business."
He stepped forward.
"You're standing in front of my fiancée after deliberately ruining her wedding dress. I'm already involved."
I squeezed his arm.
"Marcus, please."
I didn't want another argument.
Not now.
Not with the ceremony getting closer.
But Vanessa wasn't finished.
She pointed at me.
"She always wins."
I stared at her.
"What have I won?"
"Everything!"
Her voice cracked.
"Grandma loved you more. Mom trusted you more. Everybody treated you like you were perfect."
My throat tightened.
"Vanessa, that's not true."
"Yes, it is!"
She stepped toward me.
"When you graduated, the whole family celebrated for a week. When I graduated, Mom took me to dinner."
I blinked.
"Your graduation was during the pandemic."
"You always have an excuse!"
Marcus started to speak.
I gently stopped him.
"Let her finish."
Vanessa looked surprised.
I faced her.
"If you've been carrying this much pain, tell me."
For a moment, her expression softened.
Then she looked at the heirloom gown.
"You don't deserve that dress."
The words hurt.
But I refused to cry again.
"Maybe not. But that doesn't give you the right to destroy mine."
She looked away.
Mom stepped between us.
"Enough."
Vanessa shook her head.
"No, Mom. We're finally talking."
She pointed at me again.
"Tell her."
Mom's face went pale.
"Vanessa."
"Tell her what Grandma said before she died."
Something cold moved through my stomach.
I stared at Mom.
"What did Grandma say?"
Mom slowly sat on the couch.
The garment bag lay open beside her.
For the first time, my always-confident mother looked frightened.
"Your grandmother left a letter."
I felt my heart beat faster.
"A letter?"
"Yes."
"Where is it?"
Mom glanced at Vanessa.
Then back at me.
"At home."
Vanessa laughed.
"Of course."
Mom stood.
"Your grandmother wanted you to wear this dress because you helped her restore it."
I looked down.
"Restore it?"
"Remember that summer when you were sixteen?"
I nodded.
Grandma had asked me to spend several afternoons helping her repair old clothing.
I remembered an ivory gown hanging in her sewing room.
The lining was torn.
Several pearls were missing.
I had spent hours helping her separate delicate stitches.
But I never saw the finished dress.
Mom smiled sadly.
"That was this gown."
I touched the embroidery.
Suddenly, memories returned.
Grandma humming.
Her silver thimble.
The smell of lavender soap.
Her gentle hands guiding mine.
I felt tears rise.
"She kept it all this time?"
Mom nodded.
"She wanted you to know that love is something we build together."
Vanessa shook her head.
"Beautiful speech."
Mom looked at her.
"Your grandmother loved both of you."
"Then why didn't she leave me anything?"
The room went silent.
Mom's eyes changed.
"Vanessa, you know that's not true."
Vanessa looked away.
I frowned.
"What did she leave Vanessa?"
Mom hesitated.
My sister suddenly grabbed her purse.
"Forget it."
She started toward the door.
I stepped into her path.
"Vanessa, wait."
"Move."
"Not until we talk."
She looked directly at me.
For a moment, I saw the little girl who used to crawl into my bed during thunderstorms.
Then her expression hardened again.
"You want the truth?"
"Yes."
She leaned closer.
"Grandma left me something worth far more than that dress."
I stared at her.
"Then why are you so angry?"
May you like
Her eyes filled.
"Because Mom took it away."
