Chapter 2: The Signature Hidden in the Fabric
At 7:15 the following morning, Nia entered the sewing room before anyone else woke up.
She wore her lavender ribbed sweater, a simple dark skirt, and her father's old silver watch.
Her cheek was still slightly swollen.
She didn't bother covering it with makeup.
She had spent too many years making herself look unhurt so other people could remain comfortable.
Today would be different.
The turquoise gown stood near the window.
Brianna had taken it downstairs for photographs the previous evening, but Vanessa had returned it to the sewing room after discovering that the showcase committee needed additional documentation.
Nia approached the mannequin.
The crystals caught the morning sunlight.
She ran her fingertips along the bodice.
"Almost finished," she whispered.
A voice came from behind her.
"Talking to your dress now?""
Nia turned.
Brianna stood in the doorway wearing a cream silk robe, her auburn-highlighted hair arranged in loose waves.
She held a coffee cup in one hand and her phone in the other.
"You're up early," Brianna said.
"So are you.""
"I have a fitting.""
Nia looked at the clock.
"Your fitting is at ten.""
Brianna shrugged.
"I wanted to make sure you weren't doing something stupid.""
"Such as?""
"Removing my dress.""
Nia looked at her.
"Your dress?""
Brianna walked toward the mannequin.
"Don't start again.""
She placed her coffee on the worktable, then pulled out her phone.
"Take a picture of the back.""
"No.""
Brianna blinked.
"What?""
"I said no.""
Brianna laughed.
"You're seriously going to behave like this after Mom told you to cooperate?""
Nia picked up a small embroidery hoop.
"I have work.""
Brianna moved around the mannequin and examined the train.
"What's this?""
Nia looked up.
"Don't touch that.""
Brianna leaned closer.
A narrow line of silver thread ran beneath the outer layer of turquoise fabric.
It was almost invisible.
"What did you do here?""
"Nothing you need to worry about.""
Brianna pulled at the thread.
Nia immediately grabbed her wrist.
"Stop.""
Brianna jerked away.
"Don't touch me!""
"Then don't damage my work.""
Brianna's face reddened.
She glanced toward the hallway before lowering her voice.
"Listen, Nia. I know you think you're some kind of misunderstood genius, but you need to understand how the world works.""
Nia returned to her embroidery.
"Please educate me.""
Brianna leaned against the worktable.
"People don't buy designs from invisible girls who spend their lives hiding in sewing rooms. They buy from people who know how to attract attention. People with connections. People who understand branding.""
"Is that what you call copying my work?""
"I call it opportunity.""
"Then why do you need my original drawings?""
Brianna's smile vanished.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Brianna picked up her coffee.
"You're going to regret making an enemy of me.""
She left.
Nia waited until the footsteps disappeared.
Then she opened the laptop on her worktable.
The Bellamy Showcase portal was still open.
Her submission appeared under the reference number BC-1174.
<text color="secondary" size="xs" weight="medium">ORIGINAL SUBMISSION</text>
*Designer:* Nia Carter
*Collection:* The Light Between Threads
*Featured Piece:* No. 03 — The Turquoise Phoenix
*Submission Date:* Three months earlier.
Nia stared at the screen.
The status had changed.
<badge color="danger">UNDER REVIEW — OWNERSHIP DISPUTE</badge>
She clicked the notification.
A message appeared.
Dear Ms. Carter,
We have received a secondary claim concerning the ownership of your featured design. Please provide supporting evidence before 5:00 p.m. today. Failure to respond may result in removal from the showcase.
Nia read it twice.
Then she opened her folder.
She had everything.
The first sketch.
The revised patterns.
The fabric receipts.
The photographs of the construction process.
Even short videos of her hands attaching the crystals.
She had documented every stage because her father had taught her that beautiful work deserved a proper record.
She began uploading the files.
At 8:02 a.m., the first upload completed.
At 8:07, the second.
At 8:14, the portal requested additional verification.
Nia reached for her phone and called the number listed on the invitation.
A woman answered.
"Bellamy International Showcase. This is Claire speaking.""
"Hello. My name is Nia Carter. I'm calling about submission BC-1174.""
"One moment, please.""
A keyboard clicked.
"Yes, Ms. Carter. I see your file.""
"There's been a false ownership claim.""
"Are you referring to the submission from Brianna Carter?""
Nia closed her eyes.
"Yes.""
Claire paused.
"Your sister?""
"Yes.""
"I see.""
"Can I speak with someone responsible for the design review?""
"Of course. But I should let you know that both submissions contain unusually similar construction details.""
"Because she copied my design.""
"I understand your concern.""
"No. I don't think you do. I have the original sketches and the complete construction records.""
"Please send them through the verification portal.""
"I already have.""
"Then we'll review them.""
Nia hesitated.
"Claire, there's one more thing.""
"Yes?""
"If Brianna presents this gown as her original work, please don't assume the person wearing it is the designer.""
There was a pause.
Then Claire said quietly, "I'll make a note of that.""
The call ended.
Nia exhaled.
She had taken the first step.
But when she turned around, Vanessa was standing at the door.
"Who were you speaking to?""
Nia closed the laptop.
"The showcase committee.""
Vanessa walked into the room.
"Why?""
"Because someone filed a false ownership claim.""
Vanessa's expression remained neutral.
"These things happen.""
"Not when someone steals another person's work.""
Vanessa sighed and sat in the chair beside the mannequin.
"Listen, sweetheart. I don't want us fighting.""
Nia almost smiled at the word sweetheart.
It sounded strange coming from someone who had slapped her the night before.
"Then tell Brianna to withdraw her claim.""
Vanessa looked at the gown.
"She's already been announced as a featured designer.""
"That doesn't make the design hers.""
"She needs this.""
"So do I.""
Vanessa rubbed her forehead.
"You've always been the stronger one.""
Nia stared at her.
"What does that have to do with anything?""
"Your sister has always needed more encouragement. She struggles with confidence. You, on the other hand, have always been independent.""
Nia felt her throat tighten.
"So because I learned to survive without you, I deserve less?""
"That's not what I said.""
"It's what you've been doing.""
Vanessa stood.
"Don't twist my words.""
Nia turned toward the mannequin.
"I have proof, Mom.""
Vanessa's expression changed.
"What kind of proof?""
"Everything.""
"Delete it.""
Nia looked at her.
"What?""
"Don't submit those videos. Don't send the photographs. Let Brianna present the gown. We'll discuss something for you later.""
Nia's hands went still.
"Something for me later?""
Vanessa reached into her handbag and removed an envelope.
She placed it on the table.
Inside was a check.
Five thousand dollars.
Nia looked at the amount.
Then at her mother.
"What's this?""
"Compensation.""
"For what?""
"For the time you spent making the gown.""
Nia slowly pushed the envelope back.
"You're offering to pay me to lie?""
Vanessa's voice sharpened.
"I'm offering you a way to avoid embarrassment.""
"Whose embarrassment?""
"Think about the family.""
Nia let out a quiet breath.
"I have been thinking about the family for years. That's the problem.""
Vanessa snatched the envelope.
"You are making a terrible mistake.""
"Maybe.""
"Your father would be ashamed of this behavior.""
The words struck harder than the slap.
Nia looked at her mother.
"Don't use Daddy to defend what you're doing.""
Vanessa stiffened.
"Watch your tone.""
"No. You watch yours.""
For a moment, the room felt impossibly small.
Then Vanessa turned and walked out.
At noon, Nia received a message from the showcase committee.
Your evidence has been received. A review panel will contact you shortly.
She sat down.
For the first time that morning, she allowed herself to breathe.
Then her phone rang.
Unknown number.
"Hello?""
"Ms. Carter?"" a man's voice asked.
"Yes.""
"My name is Daniel Reed. I'm the creative director of the Bellamy International Showcase.""
Nia straightened.
"Hello, Mr. Reed.""
"I've reviewed your submission.""
"And?""
He was silent for a moment.
"There's something you need to know. Your sister's portfolio contains photographs of your turquoise gown from several different angles.""
Nia frowned.
"That's impossible. She only saw it finished yesterday.""
"Some photographs are dated six weeks ago.""
Nia felt cold.
"Six weeks?""
"Yes. And there's another issue.""
"What issue?""
"Her submission includes a document claiming that you worked as her assistant during the development of the gown.""
Nia stood up.
"That's a lie.""
"I suspected that might be the case.""
"I have never worked for Brianna.""
"I believe you. But the panel needs something more substantial than a disagreement between family members.""
Nia looked toward the mannequin.
"What do you need?""
Daniel hesitated.
"An independent verification of the original design signature.""
Nia's eyes moved to the silver stitching beneath the train.
"That's already there.""
"Then I suggest you examine it carefully.""
"Why?""
"Because if your documentation is accurate, the signature may establish more than ownership.""
Nia's heart began pounding.
"What do you mean?""
Daniel lowered his voice.
"Ms. Carter, did your father ever register a proprietary embroidery technique under the name Carter Signature Stitch?""
Nia stopped breathing.
She had heard that name before.
Not from her mother.
From her father.
Years ago, when she was little, he had shown her a special stitching pattern that he said was unique to their family workshop.
He called it his invisible signature.
It was a sequence of tiny stitches hidden beneath the visible embroidery.
Anyone could imitate the outer design.
But only someone who knew the sequence could reproduce the signature accurately.
Nia walked toward the gown.
"Yes," she whispered.
"Then I need you to check something immediately.""
Nia lifted the train.
Beneath the turquoise fabric, the silver thread formed a delicate pattern.
Three short stitches.
One long stitch.
Two crossing loops.
And then, near the center, something she had never noticed before.
A tiny embroidered date.
June 14.
The day her father had died.
Her eyes filled.
"Mr. Reed?""
"Yes?""
"I found it.""
Daniel exhaled.
"Good. Don't remove it. Photograph it and preserve the entire garment.""
"Why?""
His answer made her grip the table.
"Because your father's original registration may still be legally active.""
Before Nia could respond, someone screamed downstairs.
It was Brianna.
"Mom! Come here!""
Nia hurried to the landing.
Brianna stood in the hallway, holding her phone.
Vanessa was beside her.
Both were staring at the screen.
Then Brianna looked up.
Her face had gone pale.
"Mom," she whispered.
"Someone just contacted the showcase.""
Vanessa grabbed the phone.
"What did they say?""
Brianna swallowed.
"They said the original designer is required to attend tomorrow's final verification.""
Vanessa looked toward the staircase.
May you like
Toward Nia.
And for the first time in Nia's life, her mother looked genuinely afraid of her.
