Chapter 6: The Name Written in Red
I read the message again.
Then a third time.
*PAYMENT RECEIVED — SILENCE GUARANTEED.*
Beside the note was my mother's name.
Patricia Brooks.
My mother.
The woman who had held my grandmother's hand during her final days. The woman who had taught me to stand up for myself. The woman who had encouraged me to follow my dream of becoming a designer.
How could she possibly have been involved?
“Simone?””
Theodore's voice pulled me back into the room.
I turned my phone toward him.
He studied the photograph.
His expression darkened.
“Where did you get this?””
“Claire Donovan sent it.””
Olivia leaned across the table.
“Is that the original ledger?””
“I think so.””
She enlarged the image.
“The handwriting appears consistent with the other entries. But we need the physical document before drawing conclusions.””
I barely heard her.
My eyes were fixed on my mother's name.
Vanessa stood near the door, watching me.
For the first time, she wasn't smiling.
“You look surprised,” she said.
I turned toward her.
“Did you know my mother was involved?””
Vanessa adjusted her diamond bracelet.
“I know more about your family than you think.””
“Then explain it.””
“Ask your mother.””
“I'm asking you.””
Vanessa laughed softly.
“You've spent your entire life believing your grandmother was some innocent victim. Perhaps you should consider that people aren't always as perfect as the stories their families tell.””
I stepped toward her.
“Don't you dare use my grandmother to protect your family's crimes.””
Her attorney touched her arm.
“Vanessa, we're leaving.””
She ignored him.
“Your grandmother wasn't the only person who made a deal with my grandfather.””
I felt my throat tighten.
“What deal?””
Vanessa looked directly into my eyes.
“Ask Patricia why she accepted the money.””
Then she walked out.
The conference room door slammed behind her.
I immediately called my mother.
She answered almost instantly.
“Simone?””
“Mom, where are you?””
“I'm home. Why?””
“I need you to tell me the truth.””
A pause.
“What happened?””
I looked at the photograph again.
“Did you receive money from Richard Cole?””
Silence.
It lasted only a few seconds.
But it was enough.
“Simone,” she whispered.
“Is it true?””
“Where did you get that information?””
“Answer me!””
My voice echoed through the room.
Theodore and Olivia exchanged glances.
My mother began crying.
“I was going to tell you.””
I closed my eyes.
“When?””
“When I knew how to explain it.””
“Explain what? That you took money to stay quiet while someone stole Grandma's work?””
“No!””
Her voice cracked.
“No, sweetheart. It wasn't like that.””
“Then what was it like?””
She breathed shakily.
“Come home. Please.””
I ended the call.
For several seconds, I couldn't move.
Then Theodore approached.
“Simone, don't make any decisions while you're angry.””
I looked at him.
“My own mother lied to me.””
“I understand.””
“No, you don't.””
He lowered his voice.
“Your grandmother kept those documents for a reason. Whatever happened, I believe the truth is larger than that one ledger entry.””
I picked up my handbag.
“I'm going to find out.””
My mother was standing in the kitchen when I arrived.
She had prepared tea.
Two cups sat on the table.
Neither had been touched.
“Sit down,” she whispered.
I remained standing.
“Tell me everything.””
She looked at the floor.
“When your grandmother died, she left behind several debts. Medical bills, property taxes, and money owed to suppliers from her final years.””
I frowned.
“Grandma told me everything was paid.””
“She didn't want you worrying.””
My mother opened a drawer and removed a faded envelope.
“Richard Cole Senior contacted me shortly after the funeral. He said he wanted to settle the outstanding debts as a gesture of respect for your grandmother.””
“How much?””
“Forty thousand dollars.””
My stomach tightened.
“And you accepted?””
“I had no choice.””
“There are always choices.””
She looked up.
“Your grandmother's house was about to be taken from us. I had lost my job. You were trying to build your business. I was terrified.””
I stared at her.
“Why didn't you tell me?””
“Because the agreement included a confidentiality clause.””
I sat down slowly.
“What agreement?””
My mother slid a document across the table.
It was a settlement agreement dated eight years earlier.
Richard Cole Senior had agreed to pay the outstanding debts in exchange for Patricia Brooks agreeing not to pursue claims relating to Evelyn Brooks's former designs.
I read it twice.
My mother's signature was at the bottom.
“Did Grandma know?””
My mother shook her head.
“No. She had already passed away.””
“Then why did you sign?””
“Because he told me the collection had already been legally transferred. He said there was nothing left to fight for.””
“And you believed him?””
“I was thirty-nine years old, Simone. I had just buried my mother. I was trying to keep a roof over our heads.””
Her eyes filled.
“I thought I was protecting you.””
I pushed the paper away.
“You protected them.””
She flinched.
“I know.””
The words were barely audible.
For a moment, the only sound in the kitchen was the ticking clock above the refrigerator.
Then my mother reached into the envelope again.
“There is something else.””
She removed a small photograph.
It showed my grandmother sitting in her garden.
Beside her was a young woman I recognized.
My mother.
But the date on the photograph was written in the corner.
September 1987.
My mother had been only seventeen.
“What is this?””
She swallowed.
“Your grandmother gave it to me after the exhibition.””
I looked at her.
“What exhibition?””
“The one where Richard stole her collection.””
My chest tightened.
“You were there?””
She nodded.
“I saw everything.””
The room seemed to tilt.
“Mom…”
“I was working backstage. I heard Richard arguing with your grandmother. He told her the collection belonged to him. She refused to sign the transfer papers.””
My mother covered her face.
“I watched him take the sketches. I watched him threaten to ruin her career.””
“And you never told anyone?””
“I was a teenager. He told me he could make sure I never worked in fashion. He said he knew people who could destroy our family.””
I stared at her.
“That's why you accepted the money?””
She nodded.
“I thought the fight was over.””
I picked up the photograph.
On the back, my grandmother had written:
One day, my girls will understand why I refused to surrender.
I felt tears burn behind my eyes.
“Why didn't you tell me about the trunk?””
“Because I was afraid.””
“Of what?””
My mother looked toward the window.
“Richard wasn't the only person involved.””
My heart began racing.
“Who else?””
She opened her mouth.
Before she could answer, someone knocked on the front door.
Three hard knocks.
My mother froze.
I stood.
“Are you expecting someone?””
She shook her head.
I approached the door and looked through the peephole.
A man in a dark suit stood outside.
He held a leather briefcase.
When I opened the door, he handed me an envelope.
“Miss Brooks?””
“Yes.””
“My name is Daniel Price. I'm representing Richard Cole Senior.””
I stared at him.
“What does he want?””
“Mr. Cole would like to meet with you.””
“I have nothing to discuss with him.””
Daniel nodded politely.
“That's understandable.””
He extended the envelope.
“He asked me to give you this.””
I opened it.
Inside was a handwritten note.
Simone,
Your grandmother and I made mistakes. But the collection you are fighting over is only a fraction of what happened.
If you want the truth about your mother's involvement, meet me tomorrow at two.
Come alone.
At the bottom was a final sentence.
*Ask Patricia what happened to the original pink collection.*
I looked at my mother.
Her face had gone completely white.
And then she whispered something that made my blood run cold.
“Your grandmother didn't lose that collection, Simone.””
May you like
She swallowed.
“She destroyed it herself.””
