Chapter 9: The Woman Behind the Forgery
At 8:17 the next morning, I received a call from Margaret Carver.
"Miss Carter?""
Her voice was sharp and unmistakable.
"Yes.""
"This is Margaret Carver. I understand someone has been using my name.""
I looked at my father.
He was already listening.
"Someone sent me a photograph of you with Victoria Hayes," I said.
Margaret sighed.
"My sister.""
"Elizabeth?""
"Yes. She has been impersonating me.""
I sat down.
"Why would she do that?""
"Because she knows I have been protecting your family's records.""
I looked at the certificate on the table.
"Do you have the original Angel Collection archive?""
"I do.""
"Is it safe?""
There was a pause.
"Not anymore.""
My stomach tightened.
"What happened?""
"Elizabeth entered my office yesterday afternoon. She used an old access card and took several files from my locked cabinet.""
"Did she take the black case?""
"Yes.""
I closed my eyes.
"Then she has the evidence.""
"Not all of it.""
Margaret lowered her voice.
"Your mother anticipated this possibility. She left the most important record somewhere Elizabeth would never think to look.""
I looked at my father.
"Where?""
"In the original garment.""
I frowned.
"What garment?""
"The first Angel Collection gown. The one your father designed before the partnership with Hayes Luxury Group.""
My father stood abruptly.
"Margaret, that gown was destroyed in the studio fire.""
"No, Marcus. It wasn't.""
Silence.
Then Margaret continued.
"Denise removed it from the studio the night before the fire. She brought it to me for safekeeping.""
I stared at the phone.
"Where is it now?""
"At my home in Manhattan.""
"Why didn't you tell us earlier?""
"Because your mother instructed me not to reveal its location unless the collection was formally challenged.""
I swallowed.
"And now?""
"Now it has been challenged. So I want you both to come here immediately.""
Margaret lived in a brownstone on the Upper East Side.
The house was filled with books, framed photographs, and antique furniture.
When we arrived, she opened the door herself.
She was in her seventies, with silver hair pulled into a neat bun and reading glasses hanging from a chain around her neck.
Her eyes moved from my father to me.
For several seconds, she didn't speak.
Then she embraced my father.
"Marcus.""
He closed his eyes.
"Margaret.""
She stepped back and looked at me.
"You have Denise's eyes.""
I smiled faintly.
"Everyone keeps saying that.""
Margaret led us upstairs.
A large garment bag hung inside a locked wardrobe.
She opened it carefully.
Inside was a gown.
Not pink.
Not blue.
Ivory.
It was breathtaking.
The bodice was structured with delicate embroidery, while the skirt fell in long, flowing layers. Two enormous wings extended from the back, built from ivory silk and fine feathers.
I stepped closer.
The construction was more sophisticated than anything I had ever seen.
The seams were almost invisible.
The embroidery was delicate but strong.
And at the center of the back was the tiny bird symbol.
My father's signature.
My mother's craftsmanship.
I touched the edge of the fabric.
"Is this the original?""
Margaret nodded.
"Your parents completed it together in 2002.""
My father looked at the gown.
"I thought it was gone.""
"Denise saved it.""
Margaret opened a small compartment inside the garment bag.
There was a folded paper attached to the lining.
I carefully removed it.
It was a handwritten note.
For the daughter who will one day understand why we built these wings.
I felt tears rise.
My mother had known.
She had known that one day I might need to stand in front of people who would question my work.
She had left me something that could prove I belonged to this history.
Margaret watched me.
"There's more.""
She opened a drawer and removed a thin transparent sleeve.
Inside was a small ledger.
The pages were filled with handwritten entries, dates, company names, and financial figures.
My father stared at it.
"That's the original partnership ledger.""
Margaret nodded.
"Denise found it after Richard attempted to register the Angel Collection under Hayes Luxury Group.""
I turned the pages.
At first, the numbers meant nothing to me.
Then I noticed a repeated company name.
*Northstar Holdings.*
"What is this?""
My father took the ledger.
"Northstar was supposed to be a temporary production company. Richard created it to handle manufacturing costs.""
Margaret shook her head.
"Not exactly.""
She pointed toward several entries.
"Look at the dates. Payments were transferred from the original partnership to Northstar Holdings, then returned to Hayes Luxury Group under different descriptions.""
My father studied the pages.
His expression became increasingly troubled.
"These weren't manufacturing payments.""
"What were they?"" I asked.
Margaret looked at him.
"Marcus?""
He swallowed.
"Payments to purchase the partnership's ownership shares without the other partners' consent.""
I stared at the ledger.
"Someone was secretly buying out the company?""
Margaret nodded.
"Using funds that belonged to the company itself.""
My father looked at the final page.
"And this signature...""
He stopped.
I leaned closer.
The signature belonged to Richard Hayes.
Beside it was a handwritten instruction.
*Transfer final balance after Denise Carter signs the release.*
My father's face changed.
"She never signed a release.""
Margaret nodded.
"Exactly.""
I looked at the ledger.
"Can this prove what happened?""
"It can prove that Richard used partnership funds to finance a transfer that was never authorized. Combined with the original copyright registration, it could undermine his company's entire claim.""
I looked at my father.
"Then why hasn't anyone exposed him?""
Margaret gave a tired smile.
"Because the ledger was never submitted as evidence. Your mother wanted to wait until she had enough documentation to challenge the entire arrangement.""
"Why didn't she finish?""
Margaret's expression softened.
"She became ill. By the time she was ready, Richard had already begun threatening the people around her.""
My father lowered his head.
I held the ledger against my chest.
"Then we finish what she started.""
Margaret nodded.
"That's why I called you.""
My phone rang.
It was Evelyn Brooks.
I answered.
"Nia?""
"Yes.""
"I need you at the House of Couture immediately.""
"What happened?""
"The committee has received a formal legal notice from Hayes Luxury Group. They're demanding your immediate disqualification.""
I closed my eyes.
"On what grounds?""
"Copyright infringement, breach of confidentiality, and unauthorized use of protected designs.""
I almost laughed.
"They're still doing this?""
"There's something else.""
Evelyn lowered her voice.
"Richard has submitted a new document claiming that your mother transferred all rights to the Angel Collection to him in 2007.""
I looked at Margaret.
She shook her head.
"That's impossible," I said.
"I believe you. But the document includes what appears to be Denise's signature.""
My father stepped forward.
"Ask Evelyn if the document contains a witness signature.""
I repeated the question.
Evelyn paused.
"Yes. It does.""
"Whose name?""
Another pause.
Then she answered.
"Arthur Bell.""
I felt as if someone had punched me.
I looked at Margaret.
Then at my father.
Arthur had signed a document claiming my mother transferred the collection to Richard.
The same man who had promised to protect her secrets.
The same man who had brought me the letter.
The same man who had hidden the truth about my father.
I ended the call.
My father paced the room.
"I knew he was involved in the original agreement, but I never believed he would sign something like that.""
Margaret shook her head.
"Arthur was Denise's closest friend. He wouldn't have done this without a reason.""
I stared at her.
"Then what reason?""
Nobody answered.
My phone vibrated.
A message from Arthur.
*Nia, I need to explain. Please don't let them show you the last page of that document without hearing me first.*
I called him immediately.
He answered on the first ring.
"Arthur, what did you sign?""
There was silence.
Then he said, "I didn't have a choice.""
"That's what everyone says.""
"Nia, listen to me. The document you're seeing is not what you think.""
"Your signature is on it.""
"Yes.""
"Did my mother sign away the collection?""
"No.""
"Then why did you sign as a witness?""
He breathed heavily.
"Because I was trying to save her.""
I closed my eyes.
"Explain.""
"Richard had threatened to file criminal charges against your father. He claimed Marcus had stolen company documents and violated the original agreement. He also threatened to have your mother investigated for fraud.""
My father grabbed the phone.
"Richard had no evidence!""
Arthur's voice broke.
"I know that now.""
"Then why did you help him?""
"Because Denise asked me to.""
Silence filled the room.
I took the phone back.
"What?""
Arthur continued.
"Your mother knew Richard would never stop. She wanted me to sign a document confirming the transfer so that he would believe she had surrendered. In exchange, he agreed to leave you and Marcus alone.""
I stared at the wall.
"You're telling me my mother signed a fake agreement to protect us?""
"Yes.""
"Then why does Richard claim it's real?""
"Because he altered the document afterward.""
Margaret stepped closer.
"Arthur, do you have the original?""
"Yes.""
I looked at my father.
He nodded.
"Where?""
Arthur hesitated.
"At the House of Couture.""
My heart raced.
"Why?""
"Because I placed it in the competition's official archive before the opening ceremony. I knew Richard would try to use the forged version, so I made sure the original was registered with the event's legal team.""
I stared at Margaret.
She looked stunned.
"Then the committee has both versions?""
"Yes," Arthur answered.
I felt a surge of hope.
"Then we can prove the forgery.""
"Not yet.""
"Why?""
Arthur lowered his voice.
"Because Richard has already obtained the original.""
My stomach dropped.
"How?""
"Someone inside the event gave it to him.""
I looked toward the window.
My father stepped closer.
"Who?""
Arthur was silent.
Then he said,
"One of the judges.""
The line disconnected.
I stared at the phone.
A moment later, Evelyn sent an email.
The subject line read:
*EMERGENCY JUDGING SESSION — FINAL DECISION.*
Attached was a photograph of the committee's signed resolution.
My name appeared at the top.
Beneath it were the words:
*DISQUALIFICATION PENDING IMMEDIATE REVIEW.*
But there was one more detail.
The resolution had been signed by four judges.
Three signatures were familiar.
The fourth belonged to Margaret Carver.
I looked at her.
She was standing beside the original gown, visibly shaken.
"I didn't sign this," she whispered.
I looked at the document again.
Someone had forged her signature.
And this time, the forgery wasn't just an attempt to steal my family's designs.
It was an attempt to make sure nobody could prove the truth.
My father took the phone from my hand.
"Richard is desperate.""
I looked at the ivory gown.
Then at the ledger.
Then at the tiny bird symbol embroidered inside the lining.
"Good," I said.
My father looked at me.
I lifted my head.
"Because I'm done letting him decide what happens to my family.""
Margaret opened a locked cabinet.
Inside were several old photographs, legal documents, and a sealed envelope bearing the official seal of the competition.
She handed it to me.
"Your mother gave me this before she died. She said I should only open it if the Hayes family attempted to disqualify you.""
I broke the seal.
Inside was a single page.
At the top was a name I had never seen before.
*ELIZABETH HAYES.*
Beneath it was a handwritten confession.
And when I read the first sentence, I understood that Richard Hayes hadn't been acting alone.
His sister had been the person who originally designed the forged agreement.
And she had written something my mother had never told me.
May you like
Richard was not the rightful heir to Hayes Luxury Group.
The original controlling ownership belonged to the Carter family.
