Chapter 2: The Envelope Nobody Expected
The applause had barely faded when Marcus Bennett stepped toward the center of the runway.
Vanessa remained frozen beside the front row.
Her fingers tightened around her purse.
Maya whispered something into her ear.
I couldn't hear the words, but I saw Vanessa shake her head sharply.
Marcus opened the envelope.
Inside were several printed documents, a small USB drive, and a photograph.
He examined the first page.
"Before we proceed with the competition results, we need to address a serious issue involving one of the contestants.""
A woman near the judges' table raised her hand.
"Is this about the destroyed gown?""
"Partly," Marcus replied.
Vanessa laughed nervously.
"This is ridiculous. My stepdaughter has always been dramatic. She's trying to turn a family disagreement into a public scandal.""
I gripped the microphone.
"A family disagreement?""
Vanessa turned toward me.
"Don't start, Nia.""
Marcus raised his hand.
"Mrs. Carter, please.""
He looked toward the technical director.
"Can we display the first document?""
The screen changed.
It showed an application submitted to the Atlanta Rising Designers Competition.
My name appeared at the top.
Below it was a photograph of my original gown.
Then came another name.
Maya Carter.
I frowned.
"What is that?""
Marcus studied me.
"Your original design was registered with the competition under your name approximately four months ago. However, last week, we received a second submission containing almost identical construction details.""
The next image appeared.
Maya's silver dress.
I stared.
It wasn't just similar.
The bodice had the same architectural cut I'd designed in my original sketches.
The embroidered waistline was almost identical.
Even the asymmetrical skirt had the same unusual arrangement of panels.
My stomach turned.
"That's my design.""
Maya jumped up.
"No, it isn't!""
Marcus held up a page.
"Your application contains sketches, fabric specifications, and dated progress photographs. The second submission was uploaded using an account registered to Maya Carter.""
Vanessa stepped forward.
"She could have copied those sketches from the internet.""
I looked at her.
"Nobody else had access to them.""
"That's enough!"" Vanessa snapped.
Marcus didn't move.
"Mrs. Carter, we haven't finished.""
He removed the photograph from the envelope.
It showed a worktable.
My worktable.
The one in my father's garage.
On it lay several pages from my design notebook.
The photograph had been taken at night.
I recognized the blue lamp beside the sewing machine.
I recognized the coffee stain on the table.
But I didn't recognize the person standing beside it.
Maya.
She was holding my notebook.
I felt something cold settle in my stomach.
"When was that taken?"" I asked.
Marcus checked the back.
"According to the original file information, three weeks ago.""
I turned toward Maya.
"You went into my garage?""
She shook her head.
"Mom gave me permission.""
I looked at Vanessa.
Her expression had changed.
Not guilt.
Anger.
The kind of anger people feel when their carefully arranged plans begin falling apart.
"You stole my designs," I whispered.
Vanessa crossed her arms.
"Don't be absurd.""
Maya's voice trembled.
"I didn't steal anything. Mom said we were just looking at your sketches.""
"Why did you submit them under your name?""
"I didn't!""
Marcus held up another page.
"Your competition account was accessed from an email address associated with your personal registration.""
Maya turned toward her mother.
"Mom?""
Vanessa immediately interrupted.
"Someone must have hacked her account.""
Marcus glanced toward the technical director.
"We also recovered the original upload history.""
He paused.
"The account was accessed using the same device that registered Maya's entry.""
Maya's face went pale.
I looked at her silver dress.
Suddenly, I understood why she'd been so interested in my bodice.
She hadn't just wanted to humiliate me.
She had wanted to make sure I couldn't present the original design.
Vanessa approached the judges' table.
"This is a private family matter. You have no right to discuss it publicly.""
Marcus placed the documents down.
"Your daughter entered a professional competition. That makes this a professional matter.""
"She is my daughter!""
"And Nia is also a contestant whose work deserves protection.""
I felt my eyes burning.
For years, I had imagined standing in a room where someone finally defended me.
I hadn't expected it to happen in front of hundreds of strangers.
Then Marcus looked at me.
"Nia, do you have any proof that these designs were created by you?""
I nodded.
"My original sketches are in my garage. I also have photographs from every stage of construction.""
"Can you provide them?""
"Yes.""
Vanessa laughed.
"She probably made those after seeing Maya's dress.""
I turned toward her.
"Why would I do that?""
"Because you've always been jealous of Maya.""
Something inside me finally snapped.
"Jealous?""
My voice echoed through the hall.
"Maya has had everything handed to her. Every dress. Every opportunity.
Every dollar. I've worked two jobs to afford the fabric for one gown.""
Maya looked down.
I continued.
"You didn't just destroy my dress tonight. You tried to take the only thing I've ever built for myself.""
The room was silent.
Then an older woman at the judges' table stood.
She wore a black blazer and a small silver brooch.
"Marcus, I'd like to see the USB drive.""
Marcus handed it to her.
She introduced herself.
"Helena Brooks. I'm the competition's independent intellectual property adviser.""
I hadn't noticed her earlier.
She connected the drive to her laptop.
A moment later, the screen displayed a series of files.
Sketches.
Photographs.
Emails.
And a video.
Helena pressed play.
The recording showed Vanessa sitting at my worktable.
She was holding my original design notebook.
Maya stood beside her.
I heard Vanessa's voice clearly.
"Once we get the sketches submitted, we'll make sure Nia can't finish the gown.""
Maya laughed.
"What if she finds out?""
Vanessa smiled.
"She won't. And even if she does, nobody will believe her.""
The audience gasped.
I felt my knees weaken.
The recording continued.
Vanessa placed my notebook into a drawer.
"Your dress needs to be ready before hers. Then we'll make sure she has nothing to show.""
Maya nodded.
"Do you think she'll cry?""
Vanessa laughed.
"She always does.""
The video ended.
For a moment, the only sound in the room was the low hum of the projector.
Then Maya turned toward her mother.
"Mom, you said nobody had recorded that!""
Vanessa grabbed her arm.
"Shut up!""
The words came out so loudly that the microphone picked them up.
Marcus closed the laptop.
"That is sufficient for tonight.""
But Helena wasn't finished.
She examined another document.
Her expression tightened.
"Marcus, there's something else.""
"What?""
She turned the page toward him.
Then she looked directly at Vanessa.
"This competition may have been the least of your problems.""
Vanessa took one step backward.
May you like
And I noticed something.
Her hands were shaking.
