Chapter 6: The $180,000 Secret
I didn't sleep that night.
Every time I closed my eyes, I saw the bank transfer.
One hundred and eighty thousand dollars.
My father had sent Vanessa that amount two weeks after my mother died.
I couldn't understand why.
Where had the money come from?
Why had he hidden it?
And why had someone left the photograph and transfer confirmation on my sewing table?
At six in the morning, I called Evelyn.
She answered sounding half asleep.
"Nia?""
"I found something.""
I read her the transfer details.
There was a long silence.
Then she said, "Do not confront either of them yet.""
"Why?""
"Because I need to verify the account.""
"Can you?""
"I can request the relevant trust records through the appropriate legal process. But I want you to send me a photograph of the document first.""
I did.
A few minutes later, she called again.
"Nia, where did you find this?""
"On my sewing table.""
"Who could have put it there?""
"I don't know.""
Evelyn exhaled.
"I recognize the account number.""
My stomach tightened.
"What is it?""
"It's connected to an account that was supposed to hold proceeds from the sale of Elena's original designs.""
I gripped the phone.
"How much money was in it?""
"At the time, approximately $180,000.""
I sat down.
"So Dad transferred the money to Vanessa?""
"That's what the document suggests.""
"Can she legally keep it?""
"That depends on the original agreement and whether the transfer was authorized.""
I looked at my mother's photograph.
"Mom knew.""
"Possibly.""
"What do you mean?""
Evelyn was quiet for a moment.
"Before she died, Elena told me she was worried about someone close to her. She believed confidential documents had been copied and that money was disappearing from an account connected to her business.""
"Did she name Vanessa?""
"Not directly.""
I swallowed.
"Then why did she leave the documents with you?""
"Because she wanted to protect you.""
I stared at the sewing box.
"Can you come over?""
"Not yet. I need to speak with the attorney first. And Nia, keep that photograph somewhere safe.""
After we ended the call, I placed the documents in a plastic sleeve and hid them inside the lining of an old sewing case.
Then I went downstairs.
Vanessa was making breakfast.
Brianna sat at the kitchen island wearing a silk robe, scrolling through photographs of herself in my dress.
Dad was drinking coffee.
The three of them looked like an ordinary family.
It made me feel sick.
Vanessa glanced at me.
"You're up early.""
"I couldn't sleep.""
She placed a plate on the counter.
"There's toast.""
I didn't move.
"Did you send Dad a photograph of Mom's old collection?""
Vanessa's hand stopped.
"What?""
"Did you?""
She turned around.
"Why would I do that?""
"Because someone left a photograph of you and Mom in my room.""
Brianna looked up.
"What's she talking about?""
Vanessa quickly recovered.
"I have no idea what you're talking about.""
I watched her face.
"There's also a bank transfer.""
Dad's coffee cup stopped halfway to his mouth.
Vanessa slowly turned toward him.
"What bank transfer?""
I looked at my father.
"One hundred and eighty thousand dollars.""
The kitchen became silent.
Brianna lowered her phone.
"What?""
Dad placed his cup down.
"Nia, we need to discuss this privately.""
"Why?""
"Because this isn't appropriate.""
"Neither was taking Mom's money.""
Vanessa stepped forward.
"You're making accusations based on a piece of paper you don't understand.""
"Then explain it.""
She looked at Dad.
He didn't speak.
I continued.
"Why did Dad transfer $180,000 to you two weeks after Mom died?""
Brianna's eyes widened.
"Mom?""
Vanessa snapped.
"Go upstairs.""
"But—"
"Now!""
Brianna slid off the stool and left.
Dad stood.
"Nia, listen.""
"No. You listen.""
I looked directly at him.
"You told me Mom's savings went toward household expenses. You let me believe there was nothing left. You watched me work after school to buy fabric, and you never told me there was an account with $180,000 in it.""
Dad looked devastated.
"I didn't know how to explain it.""
"Then explain it now.""
Vanessa crossed her arms.
"The money was compensation for work I did for Elena.""
I blinked.
"What work?""
"Business management. Marketing. Administrative assistance.""
I stared at her.
"You worked for Mom?""
"Briefly.""
"Then why did she never mention you?""
Vanessa's expression hardened.
"Because she was sick, Nia. She wasn't thinking clearly.""
That sentence made my hands curl into fists.
"Don't talk about my mother like that.""
Vanessa laughed.
"Your mother wasn't perfect.""
I stepped toward her.
"Neither are you.""
Dad raised his voice.
"Enough!""
I turned to him.
"Did Mom authorize that payment?""
He didn't answer.
Vanessa spoke instead.
"Yes.""
"Show me.""
"Excuse me?""
"Show me the agreement.""
Vanessa stared at me.
Then she picked up her tablet.
"You're becoming obsessed with this.""
She tapped the screen several times before turning it toward me.
An old scanned document appeared.
It contained my mother's signature at the bottom.
The heading read:
*Consulting and Creative Development Agreement.*
According to the document, Vanessa had been paid $180,000 for coordinating the licensing of Elena's designs.
I looked at the date.
It was signed three days before my mother died.
My stomach tightened.
"Why did Mom sign this?""
Vanessa shrugged.
"Because she needed help.""
I looked closer.
Something was wrong.
The signature seemed familiar, but the final letter was unusually sharp.
My mother always signed her name with a small loop at the end.
I remembered because she had taught me to write it when I was little.
"Can I have a copy?""
Vanessa immediately pulled the tablet away.
"No.""
"Why?""
"Because it's private.""
"Then why did you show it to me?""
Dad rubbed his forehead.
"Please, Nia. Let's stop.""
I looked at the document again.
The date was the same week my mother had been in the hospital.
I remembered that week clearly.
She had been too weak to hold a cup without assistance.
She couldn't even thread a needle.
How could she have negotiated a $180,000 business contract?
I walked away.
But as I reached the stairs, Vanessa called after me.
"One more thing.""
I turned.
"Your graduation dress is no longer your concern.""
I frowned.
"What does that mean?""
"Brianna has already been photographed wearing it. The gala organizers have approved her appearance.""
I stared at her.
"You can't be serious.""
Vanessa smiled.
"We've also arranged for her to be introduced as the designer behind the gown.""
Dad looked up.
"Vanessa, we didn't discuss that.""
She ignored him.
"Brianna deserves this opportunity.""
I felt my stomach turn.
"You're going to let her lie?""
Vanessa picked up her coffee.
"People believe what they see.""
I looked at Dad.
He said nothing.
I went upstairs.
For the next hour, I worked on repairing the dress.
The torn embroidery was difficult to fix. I had to remove several damaged stitches and rebuild the gold pattern by hand.
As I worked, I kept thinking about the agreement.
Something about the signature bothered me.
Then I remembered the blue folder.
My mother had kept dozens of original sketches, but she had also kept old letters.
I returned to the sewing box and searched through the papers.
Behind a folded pattern, I found a small notebook.
It contained several pages of handwritten notes.
Most were ordinary reminders about fabric orders and measurements.
But one page caught my attention.
The date was the same day Vanessa claimed Mom had signed the agreement.
My mother's handwriting filled the page.
*Hospital today. Unable to attend meeting with V. Told Marcus to cancel all appointments.
Vanessa insists paperwork must be signed immediately. I refused. Something is wrong.*
I read it twice.
Then I found another entry.
Marcus says the money is already gone. I don't believe him.
My fingers went numb.
There was a final note, written in darker ink.
If anything happens to me, Evelyn must check the original recording.
The original recording.
I searched the remaining pages.
Nothing.
Then I noticed a small symbol drawn in the corner of the notebook.
A blue circle with the number thirteen.
I looked at the sewing box.
There were twelve compartments in the upper tray.
But I had never examined the bottom closely.
I removed the velvet lining.
Underneath was a narrow wooden panel.
It had a tiny brass latch.
I pressed it.
The panel opened.
Inside was a small silver flash drive and a folded piece of paper.
The paper contained only six words.
*For Nia. Watch before trusting Marcus.*
My heart began racing.
I picked up the flash drive and looked at it.
My father had lied.
Vanessa had lied.
And my mother had apparently known something so serious that she had hidden the evidence inside the very sewing box she had left for me.
I plugged the drive into my laptop.
A single video file appeared.
The filename was:
*ELENA_FINAL_MEETING_13.mp4*
I clicked play.
At first, the screen showed a hospital room.
My mother was sitting in bed, wearing a pale blue cardigan.
She looked tired, but her eyes were clear.
Then someone entered the room.
Vanessa.
She placed a folder on the bedside table.
"Elena, we need to finish this today.""
My mother shook her head.
"I told you I'm not signing.""
Vanessa leaned closer.
"You don't have much time.""
My mother's expression hardened.
"Get out of my room.""
Then another voice came from behind the camera.
My father's voice.
"Elena, please. Just listen to her.""
I stopped breathing.
My mother looked toward him.
"Marcus, you promised me.""
He lowered his head.
Vanessa opened the folder.
"All you need to do is sign the transfer. Everything will be taken care of.""
My mother looked directly at the camera.
And then she said something that made my blood turn cold.
"If you take those designs, you're not just stealing my work.""
She paused.
"You're stealing my daughter's future.""
The video continued.
My father stepped closer.
"Elena, sign it. We don't have another choice.""
My mother started crying.
Then the screen went black.
I sat frozen in front of the laptop.
A notification appeared.
The video had been modified three years earlier.
Someone had opened it.
Someone had copied it.
And someone had left the flash drive behind.
Before I could process that, my phone rang.
It was Evelyn.
"Nia, I need you to listen carefully. I just received a call from the foundation's legal department.""
"What happened?""
"They found a problem with Brianna's gala registration.""
I swallowed.
"What problem?""
Evelyn's voice dropped.
"The person who registered her claimed that she owns the original Carter collection.""
I stared at the paused image of my mother.
"Who signed the ownership declaration?""
Evelyn took a breath.
"Your father.""
Then she added:
"And Nia, the foundation has just discovered that your mother's original collection was sold to a private buyer last week.""
My blood ran cold.
"Who bought it?""
There was a pause.
May you like
Then Evelyn answered.
"Vanessa Carter.""
