Chapter 2
My mother didn't look at the document.
She looked at me.
"Maya, put that away."
Her voice was low, almost pleading.
That frightened me more than if she had screamed.
"Why?"
"Because this is not the time."
I glanced around the ballroom.
Nearly eighty guests were staring.
Vanessa stood beside Mom, her face drained of color.
Dad walked toward me.
"Maya, let me see it."
I handed him the paper.
His eyes moved slowly across the first page.
Then he turned to the authorization form.
I watched his jaw tighten.
"Claire."
Mom took one step backward.
"Marcus, please."
Dad lifted the paper.
"Why is your signature on a declaration saying Vanessa created Maya's dress?"
Nobody moved.
I could hear the music still playing from the speakers.
A cheerful song.
Completely wrong for what was happening.
Mom swallowed.
"It's complicated."
"No," Dad said. "It isn't."
Vanessa suddenly grabbed his arm.
"Daddy, please don't embarrass us in front of everyone."
He pulled away.
"You submitted your sister's design as your own?"
Vanessa's eyes filled with tears.
They always did when she was cornered.
"I was going to explain."
"When?"
She looked at Mom.
That tiny movement told me everything.
They had planned this together.
My chest tightened.
"Mom, you helped her?"
Mom turned toward me.
"Maya, you have no idea what Vanessa has been going through."
I almost laughed.
I had just discovered that my sister stole months of my work.
And somehow, we were supposed to talk about Vanessa's feelings.
"What about what I've been going through?"
Mom opened her mouth.
I didn't let her speak.
"You watched her ruin my dress. You knew she had already stolen the design."
"Maya—"
"You called me dramatic!"
My voice cracked.
A few guests lowered their eyes.
Others looked openly disgusted.
Dad stepped closer to me.
"Everyone, the celebration is over."
Mom spun toward him.
"Marcus, don't you dare."
He looked at the guests.
"Thank you for coming. Please give our family some privacy."
The room began emptying.
Vanessa looked horrified.
Her carefully planned evening was collapsing.
I knew why.
Tonight wasn't just a family celebration.
Mom had invited several influential fashion industry contacts.
She had been introducing Vanessa as an emerging designer all evening.
The stolen dress was supposed to become Vanessa's big breakthrough.
Until I walked downstairs wearing it.
Within twenty minutes, the last guest had left.
Dad placed the documents on the dining table.
"Sit down."
Vanessa remained standing.
Mom folded her arms.
"Marcus, you're treating this like a crime."
Dad stared at her.
"Because it may be one."
I felt the air leave my lungs.
A crime.
I hadn't considered that.
Vanessa spoke quickly.
"Technically, the design was created in our house, using family resources."
I stared at her.
"What?"
"Mom bought some of your materials."
"I paid for almost everything myself!"
"But you used the sewing room."
"The sewing room is in my bedroom!"
Vanessa rolled her eyes.
"You're being childish."
Dad slammed his palm against the table.
"Enough!"
We all flinched.
He pointed at the document.
"Explain this."
Mom sat down.
For a moment, she looked exhausted.
Then she said something I would never forget.
"Vanessa needed a second chance."
I stared at her.
"A second chance at what?"
Mom glanced at my sister.
"Her career."
Vanessa turned away.
Dad's expression darkened.
"What happened to her job?"
Silence.
Then Mom whispered, "She was let go."
I blinked.
Vanessa had told us she was being considered for a promotion.
She had even celebrated with champagne last month.
Dad leaned forward.
"When?"
"Six weeks ago."
"Why?"
Vanessa's tears finally appeared.
"They said I used someone else's work."
I couldn't believe it.
She had already been accused of stealing a design.
And instead of learning from it, she stole mine.
Dad sat down slowly.
"Claire, tell me you didn't know."
Mom said nothing.
He closed his eyes.
That silence felt like an answer.
Then Vanessa whispered, "I needed this competition."
I shook my head.
"So did I."
She looked at me.
"You have years ahead of you, Maya."
Those words hit me like a slap.
Because I was younger, my dreams mattered less.
Because Vanessa was failing, I was supposed to sacrifice my future.
Dad picked up the application.
"Did you receive any money from this?"
Vanessa looked away.
Mom quickly answered.
"No."
Dad pointed at a printed line near the bottom.
"Then what is this?"
I leaned closer.
It was a payment confirmation.
A five-thousand-dollar development advance from a private sponsor connected to the competition.
The funds had been paid to Vanessa.
Dad's face went still.
"You were paid for Maya's design?"
Vanessa began crying harder.
"I needed to pay my rent!"
Mom reached toward her.
"Baby, calm down."
Dad stared at Mom's hand.
Then he looked at me.
Something broke inside his expression.
"I'm sorry, Maya."
I had waited my whole life to hear someone say those words while truly understanding why.
And somehow, hearing them made me cry.
Dad stood and wrapped his arms around me.
I buried my face against his jacket.
For a few seconds, I felt safe.
Then his phone rang.
He glanced at the screen.
His expression changed.
It was someone named Evelyn Carter.
I recognized the name.
She chaired the Sterling competition.
Dad answered.
"Mrs. Carter?"
I heard her voice through the speaker.
"Marcus, forgive me for calling so late. We have a serious problem."
Dad looked toward Vanessa.
"What kind of problem?"
"An anonymous source sent us evidence that your older daughter submitted a stolen design."
My heart pounded.
Someone had already reported her.
Mrs. Carter continued.
"We were preparing to announce Vanessa as a finalist tomorrow morning."
Vanessa covered her mouth.
"But," Mrs. Carter said, "there's something else you need to know."
Dad gripped the phone.
"What?"
"The authorization wasn't the only document your wife signed."
Mom suddenly stood.
"Evelyn, please—"
Mrs. Carter fell silent.
Then she asked one question.
"Claire, have you told Marcus about the ownership transfer?"
May you like
I looked at my mother.
And for the first time that night, she looked genuinely afraid.
