Chapter 2: My Sister's First Lie
I didn't sleep that night.
At 1:17 a.m., I was still sitting at my sewing table, staring at Brianna's Instagram post.
The photograph had already received more than eight thousand likes.
People were commenting about the dress.
Some called it breathtaking.
Others asked where they could buy it.
One woman wrote, Finally, someone understands feminine couture.
Brianna had liked the comment.
Then she replied:
I've been working on this design for months. So excited to finally share it.
I read that sentence three times.
Working on this design.
For months.
My hands began shaking.
I opened my laptop and downloaded every photograph of my original sketches. I saved the receipts for the fabric, the beadwork, and the embroidery supplies.
Then I opened the folder containing my design registration.
The document had been signed six months earlier.
The gown's official name was The Scarlet Promise.
Its design concept was based on my grandmother's favorite story about a white rose surviving a winter storm.
Every red flower represented something that had survived destruction.
I had created the dress after the worst year of my life.
After losing my first investor.
After my father's death.
After my mother told me that fashion was an expensive hobby and I should find a real job.
The dress had become more than an entry.
It had become proof that I could build something beautiful without anyone's approval.
And now Brianna was wearing it like a trophy.
At 2:06 a.m., Maya called again.
"I've been reviewing the submission.""
"What did you find?""
"Your sister didn't just upload photographs.""
I sat straighter.
"What do you mean?""
"She submitted a designer biography.""
My stomach tightened.
Maya continued.
"According to her application, she spent the last eighteen months developing a collection inspired by floral symbolism and modern femininity.""
I closed my eyes.
"That's my collection.""
"I know.""
"She copied my entire concept.""
"There's more.""
I waited.
"She listed Denise Carter as her creative mentor.""
A bitter laugh escaped my mouth.
"My mother doesn't know how to thread a sewing machine.""
"Apparently, she has become very interested in fashion.""
I rubbed my forehead.
"What are we going to do?""
"First, we document everything. Second, we contact the foundation. Third, we get the physical gown back.""
"How?""
Maya hesitated.
"Your mother is hosting a charity fundraiser tomorrow evening, isn't she?""
I remembered the invitation sitting on my kitchen counter.
A charity gala at the Carter family's country club.
Brianna had been talking about it for weeks.
"Yes.""
"She'll wear the gown.""
I looked at the photograph again.
"Probably.""
"Then we'll go there.""
I frowned.
"To the gala?""
"Yes.""
"Maya, they won't let me through the front door.""
"Then we'll make sure they have a reason to.""
The next morning, I arrived at my mother's house at nine.
I hadn't called.
I hadn't sent a message.
I simply walked through the side entrance and found my mother in the kitchen, arranging flowers in a crystal vase.
She looked up.
"Nia? What are you doing here?""
"I want the gown.""
She placed a flower into the vase.
"Good morning to you too.""
"Mom, give it back.""
She sighed.
"Must we have this conversation again?""
"Yes.""
Brianna appeared at the top of the staircase wearing silk pajamas.
"Who is it?""
Then she saw me.
"Oh. The dress police.""
I ignored her.
My mother folded her arms.
"Brianna has already arranged a fitting with a photographer.""
"For what?""
"Her portfolio.""
I stared at her.
"She's building a portfolio with my work?""
"Don't be dramatic.""
Brianna walked into the kitchen and poured herself coffee.
"Actually, Mom, I was thinking of starting a small couture line.""
I looked at her.
"Since when?""
She shrugged.
"Since I realized I have an eye for fashion.""
"You couldn't identify a French seam if someone drew you a map.""
She nearly choked on her coffee.
"Excuse me?""
My mother slammed a spoon onto the counter.
"Enough!""
I placed a printed copy of my design registration on the table.
"This is official documentation. The dress belongs to my company. If you continue presenting it as Brianna's work, you're going to receive legal correspondence.""
My mother glanced at the paper without touching it.
"Do you know how embarrassing this is?""
I stared at her.
"For whom?""
"For me.""
That answer almost made me laugh.
She wasn't concerned about what had happened to me.
She was concerned about appearances.
Brianna picked up the document.
She glanced at the first page, then dropped it onto the counter.
"Anyone can print something like this.""
"It's registered.""
"Prove it.""
I opened my phone and showed her the official registration number.
She barely looked.
"Well, I didn't know.""
I blinked.
"You didn't know?""
"Mom gave it to me.""
My mother nodded.
"Exactly. I thought it was something you had made for the family.""
"Something I made for the family?""
"You're always making things. How was I supposed to know this one was so important?""
I looked at the woman who had watched me work on the gown for three months.
She had brought me coffee while I painted the flowers.
She had asked me whether the waist needed more embroidery.
She knew exactly what the gown was.
She had simply decided that Brianna deserved it more.
"Mom, I told you it was my competition entry.""
She waved her hand.
"You're not going to win that competition anyway.""
The words landed harder than I expected.
Brianna smiled.
"Well, at least someone in this family understands reality.""
I looked at her.
"Did you submit my photographs?""
She shrugged.
"They're pictures of the dress I'm wearing.""
"Did you submit them to the Bellamy Foundation?""
She took another sip of coffee.
"Maybe.""
"Under your name?""
My mother answered before she could.
"What's the problem? You both have the same last name.""
I stared at her.
For a moment, I couldn't find words.
Then Brianna leaned against the counter.
"Listen, Nia. You have your little garage studio. You can make another dress. I need this opportunity more than you do.""
"Why?""
She frowned.
"Because I have connections.""
"That's not an answer.""
She set down her cup.
"Because I know how to present myself. People like me. They don't want to see someone walking around in paint-stained jeans.""
My mother smiled approvingly.
"She's right. Presentation matters.""
I slowly gathered my documents.
"You're going to regret this.""
My mother shook her head.
"Threatening your own family? That's a new low.""
"No, Mom. What's a new low is stealing from your daughter and calling it generosity.""
I walked toward the door.
Behind me, Brianna called out.
"Don't forget to watch the gala livestream tonight!""
I stopped.
She continued.
"I've got a surprise announcement.""
I turned.
"What announcement?""
She smiled.
"Something about my future in fashion.""
My mother touched her shoulder.
"Your sister doesn't need to know everything.""
I left without another word.
Outside, Maya was waiting in her car.
She rolled down the window.
"How bad?""
I got inside.
"She plans to announce her fashion collection tonight.""
Maya started the engine.
"Then we'd better prepare.""
"Prepare for what?""
She glanced at me.
"For the moment she realizes she stole the wrong dress.""
That afternoon, we visited the office of our attorney, Daniel Brooks.
He was a calm man in his forties who wore round glasses and had a habit of reading documents twice before speaking.
After reviewing my registration, he leaned back.
"Your ownership is well documented.""
"Can we stop her?""
"Potentially. But I want to see the foundation's submission rules first.""
Maya handed him a printed copy.
Daniel read it carefully.
Then he looked up.
"Interesting.""
"What?"" I asked.
"The Bellamy Foundation requires every applicant to certify that all submitted designs are original and that the applicant owns the intellectual property.""
I nodded.
"That's standard.""
"Yes. But there's another clause.""
He turned the page toward us.
"Applicants must disclose any third-party assistance or pre-existing design ownership.""
Maya frowned.
"What does that mean?""
Daniel tapped the paragraph.
"If Brianna submitted your design as her own, she may have violated the competition's rules.""
I felt my heartbeat quicken.
"Can we report her?""
"Yes. But we need more than a photograph.""
Maya pulled out her laptop.
"I have the original sketches, timestamped photographs, and the correspondence between Nia and the foundation.""
Daniel nodded.
"Good.""
Then he asked a question that made me freeze.
"Do you have proof that the gown contains a concealed design element?""
I looked at Maya.
She looked at me.
Neither of us answered immediately.
Daniel removed his glasses.
"Because if that element is what I think it is, your sister may have done something considerably more serious than plagiarism.""
I touched the silver pendant around my neck.
"She doesn't know what's inside.""
Daniel leaned forward.
"Then we need to make sure she never gets the chance to destroy it.""
My phone buzzed.
A message from an unknown number.
It contained one photograph.
Brianna was standing in front of a mirror, wearing my gown.
But this time, the photograph showed the back of the dress.
The hidden compartment was open.
And someone had removed the small silver envelope inside.
Beneath the photograph was a message.
Your sister says you should stop pretending you own everything.
I stared at the screen.
May you like
Then another message appeared.
She found something.
