Chapter 4
I barely slept that night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the photograph of my mother and Dr. Whitmore, the letter from Marcus, and the terrified expression on Thomas Reed's face.
By sunrise, I had made a decision.
I was going to find him.
Grandma tried to stop me.
“You don't know what kind of people you're dealing with.”
“I know they hurt Mom.”
“And I won't let them hurt you.”
Her voice cracked on the final word.
I took her hands.
“I'm not trying to be brave. I'm trying to understand why my mother spent her life afraid.”
She looked at me for a long time.
Then she handed me the address.
“Call me when you get there.”
Thomas Reed lived in a modest neighborhood across town. His house was small, with peeling paint around the windows and a narrow garden filled with overgrown flowers.
I knocked twice.
No answer.
I knocked again.
A curtain moved behind the front window.
Then the door opened a few inches.
Thomas stared at me.
“You shouldn't be here.”
“My name is Maya Brooks.”
His expression crumpled.
“I know.”
“You saw me at Westbrook Academy.”
He glanced down the street.
“Come inside.”
The house smelled of coffee and old books. Stacks of documents covered a dining table, and a locked filing cabinet stood against the wall.
Thomas shut the curtains before sitting down.
“Did Dr. Whitmore send you?”
“No. My mother did.”
I placed the dress across my lap.
His eyes filled with tears.
“Danielle kept it.”
“You knew my mother?”
“I was the accountant who handled the company's finances. I knew what Richard was doing, but I was too frightened to stop him.”
“Then why did you come to see her before she died?”
He rubbed his face.
“Because I finally found the original financial records.”
My pulse quickened.
“Where are they?”
“Somewhere Richard can't reach them.”
He stood and unlocked the filing cabinet.
Inside were folders, ledgers, and a thick envelope sealed with tape.
He placed the envelope on the table.
“This contains copies of the original contracts, payment records, and correspondence proving that Richard transferred Danielle and Evelyn's designs into his own company.”
I stared at the documents.
“Why didn't you take them to the police?”
“I tried. Richard found out before I could submit everything. He threatened my wife, and I panicked. I destroyed the copies I had submitted and left town.”
“Then you waited twenty years?”
His eyes dropped.
“Yes.”
Anger rose inside me.
“My mother lost everything. She died believing the world had decided she was a thief. And you knew the truth.”
“I know.”
“You could have saved her.”
“I know.”
He didn't defend himself.
That made my anger worse.
Thomas opened another folder.
“There is something else. Richard didn't just steal the designs. He forged Danielle's signature on a transfer agreement, making it appear she had sold the entire collection to him.”
“Could that be why Dr. Whitmore recognized the dress?”
“Yes. Danielle kept the original design and refused to surrender it. Richard claimed it had been returned to him, but he never produced it.”
I touched the pale-blue fabric.
“My mother told me she made this dress herself.”
“She probably did. The original collection used a particular seam pattern. Danielle adapted that design when she made this one.”
He examined the hidden label.
“That's her signature stitch.”
I swallowed.
“What happens if we expose Richard?”
“He could lose his company. He could face criminal charges if the evidence supports them. But he will fight.”
“Then let him.”
Thomas looked at me with something resembling admiration.
“You have your mother's courage.”
Before I could answer, a car door slammed outside.
Thomas went rigid.
He hurried to the window and looked through a narrow gap in the curtains.
A black SUV was parked across the street.
Two men stood beside it.
One was speaking into a phone.
Thomas grabbed the envelope.
“Get behind me.”
My heart hammered.
“Who are they?”
“People who work for Richard.”
A heavy knock struck the front door.
“Mr. Reed,” a man's voice called. “We need to talk.”
Thomas motioned toward the kitchen.
“There's a back door. Go.”
“I'm not leaving you.”
“Maya, listen to me. If they find those documents, everything Danielle suffered will happen again.”
The knocking grew louder.
I clutched the envelope.
Thomas opened a small drawer and removed a key.
“There's a storage unit at the address on this tag. I have the original files there. If anything happens to me, give this to Dr. Whitmore.”
He pressed the key into my palm.
Then he moved toward the front door.
I slipped through the kitchen and out into the garden.
I could hear voices behind me.
“Where is the envelope?”
“I don't know what you're talking about.”
A loud crash followed.
I ran.
I didn't stop until I reached the main road, where I called Dr. Whitmore.
She answered immediately.
“Maya?”
“Thomas has evidence against Richard Cole. Someone just came to his house.”
“Where are you?”
I told her.
“Stay somewhere public. I'm coming to get you.”
I looked at the envelope in my hands.
For the first time in my life, I felt as though I was holding something more powerful than money.
I was holding the truth.
An hour later, I sat in Dr. Whitmore's office while she examined the documents.
Her hands shook as she turned each page.
“These are the records we needed,” she whispered.
Then she reached the final sheet.
A bank transfer authorization.
The amount was enormous.
The recipient wasn't Richard's company.
It was a private account belonging to Marcus Cole.
I stared at the name.
“Why would my father receive the money?”
Dr. Whitmore's expression became unreadable.
“I don't know.”
Beneath the transfer record was a handwritten note.
Marcus had signed it.
May you like
And beside his signature were four words.
Payment for silence.
