Chapter 1: The Secret Beneath the Silk
ath Brianna's fingers brushed the unfinished sleeve, Nia stepped forward.
“Please don't put it on yet,” Nia said.
“The inside seams aren't finished.””
Brianna glanced at her reflection.
“Mom said it's mine.””
“Mom doesn't own it.””
The words escaped before Nia could stop them.
Brianna slowly lowered the gown.
For several seconds, she simply stared at her younger sister. Then she smiled in a way that made Nia's stomach tighten.
“You really think this dress belongs to you?””
“I made it.””
“That wasn't my question.””
Brianna placed the gown back against the mannequin, but she didn't release the fabric immediately.
“You know what your problem is, Nia? You think being talented means people owe you something.””
Nia swallowed.
“I never said that.””
“You don't have to. You walk around this house with that little sketchbook, acting like you're some misunderstood genius.””
“I just want to enter the competition.””
Brianna laughed.
“Then enter with something else.””
“There isn't enough time to make another dress.””
“That's unfortunate.””
Brianna picked up her phone and took several photographs of the turquoise gown.
Nia watched her.
“Why are you taking pictures?””
“For my portfolio.””
“Your portfolio?””
Brianna raised an eyebrow.
“Mom said I should start documenting the dress.””
“But it's my design.””
“Then you should have thought about that before Mom decided otherwise.””
She turned toward the doorway.
“By the way, don't forget to steam the train tomorrow. I have a fitting with Mom at three.””
Nia stood motionless.
Brianna stopped and looked over her shoulder.
“And Nia?””
“What?””
“Try not to make this embarrassing for everyone.””
Then she disappeared upstairs.
Nia remained beside the mannequin until the room grew dark.
At seven, she heard her mother calling everyone to dinner.
She didn't move.
At eight, her father, Daniel Carter, appeared in the doorway.
He was still wearing his gray office shirt, his tie loosened around his neck. He looked at the scattered crystals, the sewing machine, and finally his daughter's swollen cheek.
“Nia?””
She quickly turned away.
“I'm cleaning up.””
Daniel stepped inside.
“What happened to your face?””
“Nothing.””
He studied her.
“Did you fall?””
Nia shook her head.
Her father pulled out a chair.
“Come sit with me.””
She hesitated before lowering herself into it.
Daniel examined the small cut on her finger.
“Is this from the sewing?””
“Yes.””
“And your cheek?””
Nia stared at the tabletop.
“Mom got angry.””
Daniel exhaled slowly.
“About the dress?””
She nodded.
“Your mother and I will discuss it.””
Nia looked up.
“Dad, she said Brianna is taking it.””
Daniel rubbed his forehead.
“Your mother believes Brianna has a better chance at the showcase.””
“But I designed it.””
“I know.””
“I bought the fabric.””
“I know, sweetheart.””
“I worked on it for eleven months.””
Daniel reached for her hand.
“I know how hard you've worked.””
Nia felt something break inside her.
“Then why isn't anyone stopping her?””
He didn't answer immediately.
From the hallway came Vanessa's voice.
“Daniel? Are you in there?””
Her father released Nia's hand.
“I'm coming.””
He stood, then paused.
“Don't worry. I'll talk to her.””
Nia watched him leave.
She had heard those words before.
I'll talk to her.
I'll handle it.
Just give us some time.
But time was exactly what she didn't have.
The competition's final registration deadline was six days away.
That night, Nia waited until the house was quiet before returning to the sewing room.
She locked the door.
Then she removed the sketchbook from beneath a stack of fabric.
The first few pages contained the original design, measurements, and construction notes. Behind them were photographs she had printed at the library.
The first showed the turquoise fabric laid across her bedroom floor.
The second showed the bodice before the crystals were attached.
The third showed her holding the nearly finished gown in front of the mirror.
Each photograph had a date.
She had also saved receipts for every purchase, including the fabric, thread, crystals, and invisible zipper.
But there was something else.
Something her mother had never noticed.
Nia opened the back cover and carefully pulled out a folded piece of turquoise silk.
It was a narrow strip, barely six inches long.
Silver embroidery covered its surface.
To anyone else, it looked like decoration.
But Nia had spent three weeks developing the pattern. It was an original design made from six interlocking stars, with a tiny silver thread running through the center of each one.
She called it the Carter Star.
Not because she wanted to honor her family.
Because she wanted to remember that she could build something beautiful even when nobody believed she could.
Nia unfolded a small sheet of tracing paper.
On it were three lines of handwritten instructions.
She read them twice.
Then she opened her laptop.
The Rising Stars Youth Fashion Showcase had a website with a contact address for contestants.
Nia typed an email.
She explained that her original garment was being taken without her permission. She attached photographs of the dress, her dated sketches, and her purchase receipts.
Then she asked a question.
Could the judges verify the original designer through construction records and a concealed maker's signature?
She pressed send.
A minute passed.
Then another.
Finally, her inbox chimed.
The response was short.
Dear Nia,
Thank you for contacting us. We take original authorship very seriously. Please preserve all original design documentation and do not alter your garment's construction records. Our verification team will contact you shortly.
Nia read it again.
She hadn't won anything.
She hadn't even been promised a place in the competition.
But someone had listened.
For the first time that day, she smiled.
Then she heard the sewing-room door handle move.
“Nia?””
Vanessa.
Nia quickly closed the laptop.
“Open this door.””
She stood, hiding the sketchbook beneath her sweater.
“What are you doing in there so late?””
“Finishing my work.””
Vanessa pushed the door open.
Her eyes went straight to the laptop.
“Were you on the competition website?””
Nia said nothing.
Vanessa walked toward the worktable.
“Did you contact someone?””
“Mom, I—”
“Did you?””
Nia looked at her mother.
“Yes.””
Vanessa's face changed.
“What exactly did you tell them?””
“That the dress is mine.””
For the first time, Vanessa looked genuinely frightened.
Then her expression hardened.
“You have until tomorrow morning to withdraw your application.””
“I'm not withdrawing.””
Vanessa stepped closer.
“Then you're going to learn what happens when you embarrass this family.””
Nia held her ground.
But before she could answer, Vanessa's phone rang.
She glanced at the screen.
It was Brianna.
Vanessa answered.
“What is it, sweetheart?””
Brianna's voice came through the speaker, loud enough for Nia to hear.
“Mom, I just got an email from the showcase. They want proof that I designed the dress.””
Vanessa looked at Nia.
Slowly, her fingers tightened around the phone.
“What?””
“They said someone challenged the authorship.””
There was a pause.
May you like
Then Brianna whispered something that made Vanessa's face turn pale.
“They want the original designer to appear in person.””
