Chapter 5: My Sister Finally Told the Truth
Nobody moved.
The broken photograph lay between us, its glass scattered across the carpet.
Vanessa stared at Brianna.
"Go upstairs.""
Brianna shook her head.
"Mom, I'm tired of this.""
"What did you just say?""
"I'm tired of pretending.""
Vanessa marched toward her.
"You're embarrassing yourself.""
Brianna backed away.
"You told me Grandma was confused. You told me the studio was yours. You told me Maya didn't deserve anything because she was just a child.""
"Because that's the truth.""
"No, it isn't!""
The words exploded through the living room.
I had never heard Brianna speak to our mother like that.
Vanessa reached for her arm.
Brianna pulled away.
"Don't touch me!""
My mother stopped.
For a moment, the two of them stared at each other.
Then Vanessa turned toward me.
"This is what happens when children are allowed to interfere in adult matters.""
I looked at Brianna.
"What papers did you see?""
My sister wiped her eyes.
"About six months before Grandma died, I went into her bedroom looking for my headphones. She was sitting at her desk with some documents.""
"What documents?""
"Bank statements. Letters. Something about the studio.""
Vanessa interrupted.
"That is enough.""
Brianna continued.
"Grandma was crying. She told me she was worried about the business accounts.""
I stepped closer.
"What did she say?""
Brianna looked at the floor.
"She said someone had been taking money.""
My stomach tightened.
"Did she say who?""
Brianna nodded.
"Mom.""
Vanessa slapped her hand against the wall.
"That is a disgusting lie!""
Brianna flinched.
But she didn't stop.
"Grandma asked Mom to return the money. She said she had copies of everything.""
I looked at my mother.
She was breathing heavily.
"Where are the copies?""
Brianna swallowed.
"Mom took them from the safe. She put them in a box in the garage. A few days later, I saw her carrying the box outside.""
My voice became barely audible.
"What happened next?""
"I don't know. I heard her using the outdoor fireplace.""
Vanessa's expression turned furious.
"You're making things up.""
Brianna shook her head.
"I saw the papers burning.""
Silence.
Then my mother pointed toward the stairs.
"Both of you. Upstairs. Now.""
I didn't move.
Brianna didn't either.
Vanessa reached for the document safe.
"Do you understand what you're doing? You're destroying this family.""
Brianna laughed bitterly.
"You destroyed it when you stole from Grandma.""
My mother slapped the coffee table.
"Enough!""
The sound made me jump.
She noticed.
For a brief second, her eyes met mine.
Then she looked away.
"Go upstairs, Maya.""
I walked toward the stairs, but Brianna followed me.
When we reached the landing, she grabbed my sleeve.
"Wait.""
I turned.
"What?""
She looked down the hallway to make sure our mother wasn't listening.
"I have something.""
She opened her bedroom door and pulled a small silver flash drive from her jewelry box.
I stared at it.
"What's that?""
"Something I copied.""
My heart began beating faster.
"Copied from what?""
"Mom's laptop.""
I looked at her in disbelief.
"Why would you do that?""
Brianna sat on the edge of her bed.
"Because I found out the truth about the dress.""
I remained standing.
She looked up at me.
"Do you remember when Mom sent me those pictures of your gown?""
I nodded.
"She told me you had made it as a practice project. She said she was going to buy me a real designer dress later, but then she decided yours was good enough.""
I felt my jaw tighten.
"She knew it was for the showcase.""
"I know.""
Brianna looked ashamed.
"I knew too.""
I didn't answer.
She continued.
"After the event, a woman from a fashion magazine contacted me. She wanted to know who designed the butterflies because she'd seen something similar in a portfolio submitted to the Young Designers Showcase.""
My heart jumped.
"What did you tell her?""
"I told her I designed it.""
I stared at her.
"Brianna.""
"I know. I know.""
She covered her face.
"Then she asked me to send the original sketches. I didn't have any. I told her my mother had them.""
I sat down slowly.
"What happened?""
"She contacted Mom. After that, Mom started panicking.""
"Why?""
"Because the woman said she'd seen your name on the original application.""
I felt something inside me shift.
My mother hadn't merely stolen my dress.
She had tampered with my competition entry.
Brianna handed me the flash drive.
"I found emails between Mom and the event coordinator.""
I took it.
"What kind of emails?""
"Mom asked them to replace your application with mine. She said you had withdrawn.""
My hands went cold.
"Did they believe her?""
"I don't know. But she sent them a signed form.""
I looked at the drive.
"Was it my signature?""
Brianna nodded.
"She copied it from your school permission slip.""
I couldn't speak.
Brianna began crying.
"I didn't know she was going to do all that. I thought she was just letting me wear the dress.""
I stared at my sister.
"You knew she hit me.""
Her face crumpled.
"I heard it.""
"You watched her take my dress.""
"I know.""
"You stood there while she told everyone you made it.""
Brianna lowered her head.
"I know.""
I wanted to scream.
I wanted to tell her that an apology couldn't put six months of work back into my hands.
Instead, I asked the question that mattered.
"Why are you telling me now?""
She looked at me.
"Because Mom wants to sell the studio. And she said something last night that scared me.""
"What?""
Brianna took a shaky breath.
"She said if the trust becomes a problem, she'll make sure nobody can prove it ever existed.""
I stared at the flash drive.
"How?""
"She has a meeting with someone tomorrow. I heard her talking about a buyer and a new deed.""
I stood up.
"We have to tell Mr. Reed.""
Brianna nodded.
"But there's something else.""
"What?""
She looked toward the door.
"Mom promised me a car.""
I blinked.
"What?""
"She said if I helped her transfer the studio, she'd buy me a car for my twentieth birthday. She said there would be enough money from the sale to pay for it.""
I looked at my sister.
Suddenly, the reason she'd been so willing to take my dress seemed even uglier.
"Did you agree?""
Brianna looked away.
"At first.""
I stepped backward.
She quickly reached for my hand.
"Please, Maya. I know what I did was wrong.""
I pulled away.
"You're only sorry because the deal is falling apart.""
"No. I'm sorry because I finally understand what she was doing.""
I looked at the flash drive.
"Then prove it.""
That afternoon, we went to Mrs. Bennett's classroom.
She was preparing lesson plans when we arrived.
"Maya? Brianna? Is everything okay?""
I placed the flash drive on her desk.
"We need to call Mr. Reed.""
Mrs. Bennett took one look at our faces and closed her classroom door.
Within twenty minutes, we were sitting in Samuel Reed's conference room.
Brianna looked miserable.
She kept twisting the strap of her handbag.
Mr. Reed connected the flash drive to his computer.
A folder appeared.
Inside were dozens of emails and scanned documents.
He opened the first message.
The sender was Vanessa Carter.
The recipient was the Young Designers Showcase administration.
The subject line read:
*WITHDRAWAL AND CHANGE OF APPLICANT.*
The email claimed that Maya Carter had voluntarily withdrawn from the competition and authorized her sister to submit the design instead.
Attached was a scanned document bearing my name.
I stared at it.
The signature looked almost exactly like mine.
Almost.
Mr. Reed enlarged the image.
"Is this your signature?""
"No.""
He looked at Brianna.
"How do you know?""
"Because Mom copied it from Maya's school form. I saw the original.""
Mr. Reed opened another email.
This one was sent two days later.
Vanessa had written:
Please ensure all future correspondence is directed to Brianna Carter. The original applicant is a minor and no longer wishes to participate.
Mr. Reed leaned back.
"These communications are extremely important.""
I felt tears forming.
"Can they give me my entry back?""
"We will contact the showcase immediately and provide the original photographs, sketches, and evidence of the unauthorized change.""
He turned to Brianna.
"Are you willing to provide a written statement about what you witnessed?""
She nodded.
"Yes.""
"Even if your mother becomes angry?""
Brianna swallowed.
"Yes.""
Mr. Reed printed several pages.
Then he opened a different folder.
"This is more serious than the competition.""
He showed us an email dated four months earlier.
Vanessa had contacted a property consultant.
She had asked for assistance in preparing the studio for sale.
Attached was a document claiming that she was the sole beneficial owner of the property.
Mr. Reed pointed to the signature.
"Your grandmother's signature appears here.""
I leaned closer.
Something looked wrong.
"That's not how Grandma signed.""
Mr. Reed looked at me.
"You're certain?""
"Yes. She always wrote the E in Evelyn with a long loop. This one doesn't.""
He examined it.
Then he opened another document.
A genuine signature from the original trust agreement appeared beside it.
The difference was obvious.
Mrs. Bennett covered her mouth.
"Samuel, are you saying—"
"I'm saying the signature requires forensic examination.""
Brianna began crying again.
"Mom told me Grandma had signed everything before she died.""
Mr. Reed closed the folder.
"That may be what she told you. It is not what the records establish.""
He turned to me.
"Maya, I need to be very clear. These documents suggest possible financial misconduct and attempted misrepresentation of ownership. We will preserve the evidence and take the appropriate legal steps. You should not confront your mother about these findings.""
I nodded.
Then he picked up the telephone.
"Patricia, I need you here immediately.""
Less than an hour later, the independent trustee arrived.
She reviewed the emails, the property documents, and Brianna's statement.
Her face became increasingly serious.
Finally, she placed a document on the table.
"I am issuing a formal notice suspending all proposed transactions involving the studio pending a full review.""
I stared at her.
"Does that mean Mom can't sell it?""
"She cannot proceed through the trust while this notice is in effect.""
For the first time, I smiled.
Not because I wanted my mother to suffer.
Because the studio might still be there when I turned thirteen.
Then Mr. Reed received a phone call.
He listened without speaking.
His expression changed.
"What date was the application submitted?""
A pause.
"Are you certain?""
Another pause.
"Please send me the document immediately.""
He ended the call.
I looked at him.
"What happened?""
He slowly turned his computer toward us.
A new property filing had appeared.
It had been submitted that morning.
And the document listed Vanessa Carter as the sole owner of the entire property.
But the most shocking detail was the date beneath the signature.
It was dated three days after my grandmother's death.
Mr. Reed looked at Patricia.
"There's a problem.""
Patricia leaned forward.
"What?""
He pointed to the registration number.
"This deed was never executed through the trust.""
He paused.
"Someone has submitted a document claiming Evelyn Carter transferred the property before she died.""
I stared at the screen.
Grandma had been in the hospital three days after that date.
She had been unconscious.
And the person listed as the witness?
May you like
Daniel Price.
The same man who had come to our house asking me to sign away my rights.
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