Chapter 4
Lily held her phone between us.
Her hands shook so badly that Jordan had to help steady it.
The video showed Diane sitting at our mother's old dining table.
I recognized the table immediately.
It had belonged to our parents for more than thirty years.
Diane inherited it after Mom died.
Now she sat there discussing how to destroy her own niece's dreams.
I felt sick.
Diane's voice came through the phone.
"Maya thinks she's some kind of genius because she can sew a few feathers onto a dress."
Vanessa Collins laughed.
"Her portfolio is actually very strong."
Diane rolled her eyes.
"Then find a reason to get rid of her."
Vanessa leaned closer.
"The committee won't disqualify her without evidence."
Diane smiled.
"Then we'll give them evidence."
I felt my throat tighten.
The video continued.
Vanessa mentioned a fake safety complaint.
Diane suggested destroying part of the costume and claiming Maya had failed to maintain it properly.
Then she said something that made my stomach twist.
"By the time Nia figures out what happened, the competition will be over."
I looked at Lily.
"When did you record this?"
"Yesterday."
"Why?"
She began crying.
"Because I was scared."
Principal Bennett leaned forward.
"Scared of what?"
"My mom."
Lily wiped her cheeks.
"She's been acting different for months."
I watched my niece struggle to breathe.
"She keeps telling me I have to win. That our family can't afford another disappointment."
I frowned.
"Another disappointment?"
Lily nodded.
"She said if I don't get the scholarship, everything falls apart."
I looked at Jordan.
He looked equally confused.
Diane and her husband, Robert, lived in a beautiful house.
They drove expensive cars.
They vacationed several times a year.
As far as I knew, money had never been a problem.
"What does she mean?" I asked.
Lily shook her head.
"I don't know."
Her voice cracked.
"She said Dad made some bad investments."
I felt a strange chill.
Robert owned a small consulting business.
He was friendly.
Quiet.
And almost never discussed money.
"How bad?" Jordan asked.
Lily wiped her nose.
"I heard them arguing last week. Dad said they might have to sell the house."
I stared at her.
That didn't excuse what Diane had done.
But it explained the desperation beneath her arrogance.
The competition's grand prize included a sixty-thousand-dollar education scholarship and an internship with a prestigious costume design program.
Lily was talented.
But Maya had been the stronger designer for years.
And apparently, Diane knew it.
Lily looked at Maya.
"I didn't want any of this."
Maya remained silent.
My niece continued.
"Mom told me to stay away from you today."
"Why?" Maya whispered.
"She said you were going to get disqualified."
Maya stared at her.
"And you didn't tell me?"
Lily began sobbing.
"I thought she was just going to complain about your costume."
Maya stepped back.
"You knew she was planning something."
"I didn't know she'd do that!"
Maya looked down at her ruined dress.
"You could have warned me."
The words were quiet.
But they hurt more than shouting.
Lily covered her face.
"I'm sorry."
Maya turned away.
I wanted to comfort them both.
But I couldn't pretend they were equally hurt.
Lily had been frightened.
Maya had been attacked.
And the difference mattered.
Principal Bennett asked Lily to send the original video to the school's designated investigator.
She agreed immediately.
Then he told us that Diane and Vanessa's conduct had been reported to the appropriate authorities.
I looked at him.
"Will Maya still be allowed to compete?"
His face softened.
"That's what we're working to determine."
Maya shook her head.
"I don't have a costume."
"We're reviewing options for the event."
"The judging starts soon," I said.
"I know."
Jordan suddenly stood.
"How much time?"
Principal Bennett checked his watch.
"Approximately two hours before the final presentations."
Jordan looked at Maya.
"Where's your sewing kit?"
She blinked.
"What?"
"Your sewing kit."
"At home."
He looked at me.
"Nia, get the car."
I stared at him.
"Jordan, what are you thinking?"
He pointed at the costume.
"Mom taught us something."
I frowned.
He smiled sadly.
"She always said a broken thing isn't necessarily a finished thing."
Maya looked down.
"Uncle Jordan, the fabric is cut apart."
"I know."
"And it's covered in paint."
"I can see that."
"I can't fix it."
He knelt in front of her.
"Then don't fix it."
She stared at him.
"Make something new."
I looked at my brother.
He had always been the hopeful one.
But this seemed impossible.
Two hours.
A destroyed costume.
A devastated eighteen-year-old girl.
And a competition that could change her future.
Maya shook her head.
"I can't."
Jordan took her hands.
"Then we'll help you."
I looked at the red-stained fabric.
Something began forming in my mind.
The original costume was pale blue.
White feathers.
Silver stars.
But the red paint had created something unexpected.
A harsh, dramatic contrast.
A wound across the wings.
I thought about our mother's sketchbook.
There was another design inside.
One I remembered from childhood.
A phoenix.
A bird rising from ashes.
I looked at Maya.
"Baby, what if we stop trying to hide the damage?"
She frowned.
"What?"
"What if we make the damage part of the story?"
Maya stared at her costume.
I could almost see her mind beginning to work.
Jordan smiled.
"Exactly."
Maya whispered, "A phoenix."
My heart jumped.
"You remember?"
She nodded slowly.
"Grandma's drawing."
I squeezed her hands.
"She always said the most beautiful designs tell the truth."
Maya looked at the red paint.
Then at the torn feathers.
Her eyes filled again.
But something had changed.
She wasn't only crying anymore.
She was thinking.
"What if I use the red as fire?"
Jordan grinned.
"And the blue as the sky."
Maya looked up.
"And the white feathers as the wings coming through it."
I felt hope rise in my chest.
"Yes."
For the first time that afternoon, my daughter stood straighter.
Then Principal Bennett's phone rang.
He answered.
His expression changed almost immediately.
"I understand."
He listened.
Then looked at us.
"There's been a complication."
My heart dropped.
"What?"
"The competition committee received a complaint."
I stared at him.
"From whom?"
He hesitated.
"An anonymous source."
I already knew.
"What kind of complaint?"
He looked directly at Maya.
"It alleges that your original costume design was stolen."
Maya froze.
"Stolen?"
Principal Bennett nodded.
"The complaint claims your grandmother's sketchbook doesn't belong to your family."
I felt my blood turn cold.
Because only one person had ever challenged Maya's right to use those drawings.
May you like
My sister.
Diane.
