Chapter 6: The Woman Who Knew My Mother
At 6:40 the following morning, Maya and I were on the highway to Atlanta.
The butterfly gown lay carefully packed in a reinforced garment case in the back seat. My mother's blue trunk documents were secured in a separate folder, and the original sketches were tucked inside a waterproof portfolio.
I hadn't slept.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw Brianna's face when she recognized Evelyn Whitmore's name.
She hadn't looked surprised.
She had looked terrified.
Maya glanced at me from the driver's seat.
“You've been staring at that card for twenty minutes.””
“I know.””
“Are you going to tell me what you're thinking?””
I turned it over.
The number was handwritten in elegant black ink.
“I think my mother knew something about this family that nobody wanted me to discover.””
Maya frowned.
“Your mother and Evelyn were friends. That doesn't necessarily mean there's a conspiracy.””
“Then why did Dad look like he'd seen a ghost?””
“Maybe because he knows he's been stealing your scholarship money.””
I looked out the window.
That was certainly part of it.
But there was something else.
Something connected to the design archive.
At 8:15, we arrived at the Whitmore Atelier headquarters.
The building stood in the middle of Atlanta's fashion district, a modern glass structure with enormous windows and a bronze sign above the entrance.
<text color="secondary" size="xs" weight="medium">WHITMORE ATELIER — EST. 1989</text>
<AsyncImage query="luxury modern fashion house atelier headquarters glass architecture Atlanta fashion studio" aspectRatio="16:9" width="100%"/>
Inside, everything smelled faintly of leather, fresh coffee, and expensive perfume.
A receptionist looked up.
“Good morning. How can I help you?””
“My name is Nia Carter. I'm here to meet Evelyn Whitmore.””
The receptionist's expression changed.
“Ms. Whitmore is expecting you.””
She picked up the phone.
“She's here.””
A moment later, a woman in her sixties emerged from a private elevator.
Her silver hair was cut into a sleek bob. She wore a tailored black suit, delicate gold earrings, and a butterfly brooch.
The same brooch from my mother's photograph.
She stopped when she saw me.
For several seconds, she simply stared.
Then she approached.
“Elaine's daughter.””
I nodded.
“Yes, ma'am.””
She took my hands.
“Oh, sweetheart.””
Her voice trembled.
“You have her eyes.””
I felt my throat tighten.
“You knew my mother?””
Evelyn smiled sadly.
“She was the most extraordinary designer I ever met.””
She invited us into her private office.
A large photograph of my mother hung on the wall.
I stopped in front of it.
It showed Elaine standing in a studio surrounded by fabric samples, laughing with a group of young designers.
She looked happy.
More alive than I had ever seen her in the photographs at home.
“Why did nobody tell me?”” I whispered.
Evelyn stood beside me.
“Because your father wanted your mother remembered as a quiet housewife.””
I turned.
“What?””
Evelyn's expression hardened.
“Your mother had a career before she married Richard. A very successful one. She was preparing to launch her own label when she became pregnant with you.””
I looked at the photograph again.
“She gave it all up?””
“She chose to step away temporarily. But she never stopped designing.””
Evelyn returned to her desk.
“Richard wasn't comfortable with her success.””
I frowned.
“What do you mean?””
“He wanted to be the center of the family. Elaine's growing reputation made him uncomfortable. He wanted her to support his ambitions, not pursue her own.””
Maya shifted in her chair.
“That's horrible.””
Evelyn nodded.
“Your mother eventually decided that protecting her work was more important than arguing with him.””
She opened a drawer and removed a folder.
Inside were old contracts, photographs, and copies of correspondence.
“Elaine created a collection called The Monarch Series. It was supposed to be her first independent collection.””
I recognized the name immediately.
My butterfly gown.
My mother had used the same concept.
“She never released it?””
“No. She was preparing the final pieces when she became ill.””
Evelyn handed me a photograph.
It showed a magnificent butterfly-inspired gown in midnight blue and silver.
The wings were constructed from layered silk, delicate metal supports, and hand-painted organza.
I stared at it.
It was breathtaking.
“It's beautiful.””
“Your mother wanted you to have the original patterns. She believed you might someday finish the collection.””
I looked at the photograph.
“Why didn't she tell Dad?””
Evelyn gave me a long look.
“She did.””
I froze.
“What?””
“Your mother asked Richard to deliver the archive to you when you turned eighteen. He signed an acknowledgment confirming that he had received the documents.””
My hands began to shake.
“Where are they?””
Evelyn opened another folder.
“That's what we've been trying to determine.””
She placed a document on the desk.
It was signed by Richard Carter.
The date was twelve years earlier.
The document confirmed receipt of the complete Elaine Carter design archive.
But there was another page.
A transfer agreement.
It indicated that Richard had attempted to transfer commercial rights to several of Elaine's designs to a company called Carter Creative Holdings.
I read the name twice.
“What's that?””
Evelyn's face became cold.
“Your stepmother's company.””
Maya leaned forward.
“Vanessa owns a fashion company?””
“She owns a small licensing business. She has been using designs from Elaine's archive in private collections.””
I stared at her.
“How many?””
“Seven designs have appeared in commercial presentations over the last three years.””
My stomach turned.
“Without permission?””
“Without authorization from the rightful owner.””
I looked down at the document.
The rightful owner.
Me.
My mother had left me an entire archive, and my stepmother had apparently been using it to make money.
Evelyn sat across from me.
“There's a reason Richard and Vanessa are frightened of you entering this competition.””
“Because of the scholarship?””
“No.””
She slid a photograph across the desk.
It showed Vanessa at a private fashion event.
She was standing beside a mannequin wearing a midnight-blue gown.
The dress looked almost identical to my butterfly design.
But the caption beneath the photograph read:
*Carter Creative Holdings — New Monarch Collection.*
I felt sick.
“She's been selling my mother's designs?””
Evelyn nodded.
“And your stepsister's submission is not an isolated incident. I suspect they're attempting to establish Brianna as the new face of the collection.””
Maya shook her head.
“So they want to steal the designs and put Brianna's name on them?””
“Precisely.””
I looked at the photograph.
“Why would they need my competition entry?””
“Because the competition receives international attention. If Brianna wins with a design that resembles Elaine's original work, Carter Creative can claim it as part of a legitimate family fashion legacy.””
I stared at her.
“They're trying to make it look like Brianna inherited the talent.””
Evelyn nodded.
“And if you publicly challenge that narrative, you threaten their business.””
Silence filled the office.
Then Evelyn opened another folder.
“I also have something else for you.””
She removed a letter.
The envelope was yellowed with age.
My mother's handwriting was on the front.
For Evelyn, if Nia ever comes.
I opened it.
The letter was dated three months before my mother died.
It contained only a few paragraphs.
Evelyn,
Richard has become increasingly interested in the commercial value of my designs. I have refused to sign over the archive.
He believes that marriage gives him a right to everything I create.
It does not.
I have made arrangements for Nia's future. The designs and education fund are protected by independent agreements.
If anything happens to me, please make sure she receives them.
And please remind her that she does not have to become anyone's shadow.
I couldn't speak.
My mother had anticipated this.
She had tried to protect me.
And someone had ignored her wishes.
Evelyn gently touched my shoulder.
“Your mother trusted me with one final request.””
“What was it?””
“To make sure you had a chance to stand on your own.””
I wiped my eyes.
“Then I want to enter the competition.””
Evelyn smiled.
“Good.””
She stood and walked toward the door.
“Because the final presentation begins tomorrow at ten.””
I blinked.
“Tomorrow?””
“Yes. And the committee has already agreed to hear your ownership dispute before the show.””
She turned toward me.
“One more thing, Nia.””
“Yes?””
“Bring your finished dress. Not because you need to prove anything to Brianna.””
She looked at my sketchbook.
“But because I want to see what Elaine's daughter has created.””
For the first time in eighteen years, I felt as if someone was introducing me to my mother rather than telling me what she had been like.
But before we left, Evelyn's assistant entered the room carrying a tablet.
“Ms. Whitmore, I'm sorry to interrupt.””
“What is it?””
“The Carter Creative team just arrived downstairs.””
Evelyn frowned.
“Who?””
“Richard Carter, Vanessa Carter, and Brianna.””
My heart stopped.
Maya stood.
“They followed us?””
The assistant nodded.
“And they've requested an emergency meeting with the competition committee.””
Evelyn looked at me.
May you like
Then she said quietly:
“Apparently, they're more desperate than I thought.””
