Chapter 2: The Daughter Who Was Never Supposed to Shine
The following morning, Nia found her sketchbook missing.
She searched beneath the bed, inside her backpack, behind the sewing machine, and even inside the laundry basket.
Nothing.
At breakfast, Brianna sat at the kitchen island eating strawberries from a glass bowl.
Vanessa poured coffee into a white porcelain cup.
Neither woman looked surprised when Nia entered.
“Have either of you seen my sketchbook?”” Nia asked.
Brianna didn't look up.
“Maybe you misplaced it.””
“I left it in the sewing room.””
Vanessa stirred her coffee.
“Perhaps you should focus less on paperwork and more on helping your sister prepare.””
Nia looked directly at her.
“Did you take it?””
Vanessa placed her spoon down.
“Watch your accusations.””
“My sketches are inside.””
“Then perhaps you should keep your belongings organized.””
Nia turned toward Brianna.
“Did you take it?””
Brianna finally raised her eyes.
“Why would I want your little notebook?””
“Because it has the original design.””
Brianna leaned back.
“Mom, can you believe this?””
Vanessa gave Nia a warning look.
“Enough. Brianna has an important meeting today.””
Nia stared at them.
Then she noticed something beside Brianna's handbag.
A corner of lavender paper.
The same color as the sketchbook's cover.
Her heart began beating faster.
“That's mine.””
Brianna followed her gaze.
“What?””
“The paper sticking out of your bag.””
Brianna quickly pulled the handbag closer.
“It's a shopping receipt.””
“Show me.””
“Don't be ridiculous.””
Nia reached for the bag.
Brianna stood abruptly.
“Don't touch my things!””
The handbag slipped from her shoulder.
It hit the floor.
A compact mirror, lipstick, car keys, and several folded papers spilled across the tiles.
Among them was Nia's sketchbook.
Nobody moved.
Then Vanessa stood.
“Pick up your sister's belongings, Brianna.””
Brianna stared at her mother.
“Seriously?””
“Now.””
Brianna bent down, gathered the papers, and handed the sketchbook to Nia.
“Here. Take your precious diary.””
Nia opened it immediately.
The first pages were intact.
But when she reached the section containing her construction notes, her stomach dropped.
Three pages had been ripped out.
The pages containing the final embroidery placement.
“Where are they?”” she whispered.
Brianna shrugged.
“Maybe they fell out.””
“You tore them.””
“Prove it.””
Nia looked at her sister's face.
Brianna picked up her handbag.
“Honestly, Nia, you should be grateful Mom is giving you a chance to be involved. Most families wouldn't even let you near a professional fitting.””
Nia closed the sketchbook.
“I don't want to be involved in your dress.””
Brianna smiled.
“It's already my dress.””
She walked away.
Nia turned toward her mother.
“You know she took those pages.””
Vanessa lifted her coffee.
“I know nothing about your missing papers.””
“You're protecting her.””
“I'm protecting your sister's future.””
“What about mine?””
Vanessa looked at her.
“Your future doesn't depend on one dress.””
Nia felt her throat tighten.
“Then why does Brianna's?””
Vanessa didn't answer.
At three that afternoon, Brianna's fitting began.
A local seamstress named Mrs. Evelyn Brooks arrived carrying a garment bag and a small toolbox.
She was a woman in her late fifties with silver-streaked hair and reading glasses hanging from a chain around her neck.
She had worked with Vanessa several times, altering dresses for charity events and private parties.
When she entered the sewing room, she immediately noticed Nia sitting beside the worktable.
“Hello, sweetheart,” Evelyn said.
“Are you the young designer?””
Nia looked up.
Before she could respond, Vanessa interrupted.
“She helped with a few finishing details.””
Evelyn examined the gown.
“Interesting.””
Brianna emerged from the hallway wearing a fitted black dress.
“Can we get started? I have a dinner reservation at six.””
Evelyn moved toward the mannequin.
“Who constructed the bodice?””
Brianna smiled.
“I did.””
Nia looked at her.
Vanessa's eyes flicked toward Nia in warning.
Evelyn ran her fingers along the waist seam.
“Very clean work.””
Brianna smiled wider.
“Thank you.””
Evelyn examined the sleeve.
“Where did you learn this particular crystal technique?””
Brianna hesitated.
“My mother taught me.””
Vanessa stepped forward.
“Evelyn, perhaps we should focus on the fitting.””
“Of course.””
The seamstress lifted the gown from the mannequin.
She turned the fabric inside out to examine the construction.
Then she stopped.
“That's unusual.””
Nia looked up.
“What is it?”” Brianna asked.
Evelyn pointed to the inside of the bodice.
“Who used this stitch?””
Nia's heart skipped.
It was the narrow ladder stitch she had learned from an old tailoring book. She used it because it held the sheer lining without leaving visible marks.
Evelyn ran a finger along the seam.
“I haven't seen this technique used like this in years.””
Nia quietly said, “It's called a hidden ladder finish.””
Evelyn turned.
“You know it?””
Nia nodded.
“I used it because the fabric was too delicate for the machine.””
Evelyn looked from Nia to Brianna.
“Then you must have constructed this section.””
Brianna laughed nervously.
“She helped a little.””
“A little?””
“Yes.””
Evelyn examined the waist again.
“There's a difference between helping and building something. This is professional construction.””
Vanessa stepped between them.
“Evelyn, Brianna is the designer. Nia is simply interested in sewing.””
Evelyn removed her glasses.
“I see.””
She continued the fitting without further questions.
But when Brianna turned toward the mirror, Evelyn leaned closer to Nia.
“Do you have photographs of this gown before it was completed?””
Nia nodded.
“Yes.””
“Keep them safe.””
“Why?””
Evelyn lowered her voice.
“Because someone is going to ask who made this dress, and the stitching will answer before anyone else does.””
Nia felt a strange warmth in her chest.
“Thank you.””
Evelyn gave her a small smile.
Then she noticed the back of the gown.
“There's something unusual about the train.””
Nia froze.
The turquoise silk spread across the floor in a graceful curve.
Near the lower edge, almost hidden beneath the layers of fabric, was a small embroidered motif.
Six stars.
A silver thread.
The Carter Star.
Evelyn crouched.
“That's beautiful.””
Brianna turned sharply.
“What are you looking at?””
“An embroidery detail.””
Brianna stepped closer.
“I didn't put that there.””
Vanessa's face tightened.
Nia said nothing.
Evelyn stood.
“Whoever made this has a remarkable eye for detail.””
Brianna looked at Nia.
For a moment, something unpleasant flashed across her face.
Then she smiled.
“It's probably just a decoration.””
Evelyn carefully covered the train with a protective cloth.
“Perhaps.””
But before leaving, she slipped a small business card into Nia's hand.
On the back, she had written a phone number.
“Call me if you need an independent witness to the construction,” she whispered.
Nia looked down.
Then up.
“Why would I need that?””
Evelyn's expression became serious.
“Because I've seen this happen before.””
She glanced toward Vanessa.
“Talent doesn't always get stolen by strangers.””
That evening, Nia sat in her bedroom with the sketchbook open.
She had copied the missing measurements from memory.
It wasn't perfect, but she still had enough information to reconstruct the original pattern.
Her phone vibrated.
An unknown number.
She answered cautiously.
“Hello?””
“Is this Nia Carter?””
“Yes.””
“My name is Rebecca Hayes. I'm calling from the Rising Stars Youth Fashion Showcase.””
Nia sat up.
“Is something wrong?””
“Actually, we'd like to invite you to a private authorship verification meeting.””
Nia stared at the wall.
“When?””
“Tomorrow at ten in the morning.””
Her heart raced.
“Do I need to bring anything?””
“Your original sketches, dated photographs, receipts, and any other evidence of the garment's construction.””
Nia looked at her sketchbook.
“I can do that.””
Rebecca paused.
“One more thing, Nia.””
“Yes?””
“The other contestant has also requested an authorship review.””
Nia's fingers tightened around the phone.
May you like
“Who?””
“Your sister, Brianna Carter.””
