Chapter 4: The Secret Her Father Took to His Grave
Nia didn't sleep.
The photograph remained open on her phone long after midnight.
Her father stood outside Carter Custom Designs, one arm resting on the shoulder of a little girl. Brianna was wearing a turquoise dress, her hair tied into two small ponytails. Beside them stood Vanessa, smiling at the camera.
It looked like an ordinary family photograph.
Except Nia had never seen it before.
And the message beneath it suggested that her mother had deliberately hidden something from her.
Ask Vanessa what really happened the night your father signed the final design agreement.
Nia enlarged the photograph.
On the back wall of the shop, just above the door, she noticed a small framed certificate.
She recognized the gold border.
It was the original registration certificate for the Carter Signature Stitch.
Her father had shown it to her when she was younger.
But there was something else in the photograph.
A date.
November 18.
Nia checked the date on her father's final letter.
The letter had been written November 19.
One day later.
She felt a chill move through her.
At 6:30 a.m., she walked downstairs.
Vanessa was already in the kitchen, wearing a vivid magenta satin dress beneath a long cream coat. Her short auburn hair was neatly styled, and her makeup was flawless.
She was drinking coffee while scrolling through her phone.
Brianna sat opposite her, eating toast.
Neither looked particularly surprised to see Nia.
"You're awake early," Vanessa said.
"I need to ask you something.""
Vanessa didn't look up.
"Can it wait?""
"No.""
Brianna sighed.
"Here we go.""
Nia placed her phone on the table.
The photograph filled the screen.
Vanessa's coffee cup stopped halfway to her mouth.
For a moment, her face lost all expression.
Then she slowly placed the cup down.
"Where did you get that?""
"Someone sent it to me.""
"Who?""
"I don't know.""
Vanessa reached for the phone.
Nia picked it up before she could touch it.
"Why didn't you tell me about this photograph?""
"It's an old picture.""
"Why is Brianna wearing one of Dad's original designs?""
Brianna looked up.
"Because Dad made clothes for both of us.""
Nia turned toward her.
"He made that dress?""
"Obviously.""
"Do you remember it?""
Brianna shrugged.
"I was little.""
Nia looked back at Vanessa.
"Why was he signing something the night before he wrote that letter?""
Vanessa stood abruptly.
"Enough.""
"No. I want an answer.""
"Your father had business matters that you wouldn't understand.""
"Then explain them.""
Vanessa grabbed her handbag.
"I have an appointment.""
"Mom.""
Vanessa stopped.
Nia's voice trembled, but she didn't lower it.
"Did Dad leave the design archive to me?""
Vanessa turned slowly.
Brianna stopped chewing.
The kitchen became silent.
Finally, Vanessa said, "Your father made a lot of promises when he was sick.""
"That's not an answer.""
"He was confused.""
"Was he?""
Vanessa's eyes hardened.
"Don't question things you weren't old enough to understand.""
Nia stepped closer.
"Then why did you try to transfer his archive into Brianna's name last month?""
Brianna dropped her toast.
"Mom?""
Vanessa shot her a warning look.
Nia understood immediately.
Her mother had not expected her to discover that.
"Answer me," Nia said.
Vanessa picked up her handbag.
"I don't have time for this.""
"Did you know the rights belonged to me?""
Vanessa opened the kitchen door.
Then she said something Nia would never forget.
"Your father should never have made that decision.""
She walked out.
Brianna stared at Nia.
"Congratulations. You've upset Mom before breakfast.""
Nia looked at her.
"Did you know?""
"Know what?""
"That Dad left the archive to me.""
Brianna looked away.
Nia stepped closer.
"Brianna.""
Her sister stood, gathered her bag, and brushed past her.
"Maybe if you spent less time digging up dead people's paperwork, you'd understand why nobody wants to work with you.""
The front door slammed.
Nia remained in the kitchen.
Her mother's words kept repeating in her mind.
Your father should never have made that decision.
Not that it hadn't happened.
Not that the documents were fake.
She had admitted it.
At 8:10 a.m., Nia arrived at the old tailoring shop.
The building looked smaller than she remembered.
The sign had faded. The windows were covered with dust, and a metal shutter hung crookedly above the entrance.
A woman in her late sixties stood near the door.
Her silver hair was tied into a bun, and she wore a navy cardigan over a white blouse.
"Nia Carter?""
"Yes.""
Evelyn Brooks smiled sadly.
"You have your father's eyes.""
Nia felt a lump in her throat.
"Thank you for meeting me.""
Evelyn unlocked the door.
Inside, the shop smelled of old wood, dust, and machine oil.
A large cutting table still stood near the window.
Nia recognized the small burn mark on its corner.
She had accidentally dropped a hot iron there when she was eight.
Her father had laughed and told her that every great designer needed one memorable mistake.
She touched the table.
"Everything looks the same.""
"Your father insisted that we preserve the important things," Evelyn said.
"Even after the shop was sold?""
"Especially after.""
Evelyn walked toward a small office at the back.
She unlocked a metal filing cabinet and removed a thick leather folder.
"This is the archive.""
Nia opened it.
Inside were registration certificates, licensing agreements, design records, and several signed legal documents.
At the top was a certificate bearing her father's full name.
Richard James Carter.
Below it was a registered ownership transfer.
*Beneficiary: Nia Carter.*
*Effective date: November 18.*
Nia stared.
"That's the night in the photograph.""
"Yes," Evelyn replied.
"Why did Dad transfer everything to me?""
Evelyn pulled out a chair.
"Because he believed you were the only person who truly understood what the business meant.""
Nia ran her finger along the signature.
"What happened that night?""
Evelyn looked toward the window.
"Your father had discovered that your mother had been using his designs without permission.""
Nia froze.
"What?""
"She had been taking photographs of his work and showing them to people in her social circle. Some of those designs were being presented as her own concepts.""
Nia slowly sat down.
"Why would she do that?""
"She wanted to build a fashion business around your father's reputation. But she didn't want him controlling it.""
"Did Dad confront her?""
"Yes. They argued. Very badly.""
Evelyn opened another document.
"This is the original agreement.""
Nia read the first page.
It stated that all designs created under Carter Custom Designs were to remain protected within the family archive.
Her father had appointed Nia as the future rights holder.
But there was another clause.
A clause that made her stop.
No person may claim authorship of an original Carter design without the explicit written approval of the registered designer or rights holder.
"Why is this clause highlighted?"" Nia asked.
Evelyn looked at her.
"Because your father was concerned about Brianna.""
Nia's mouth went dry.
"Why?""
"Your sister had taken several of his sketches when she was younger. He found them in her school portfolio.""
Nia closed her eyes.
"She was stealing his work even then?""
"Your father didn't call it stealing at first. He believed she was experimenting. But when he discovered that she had entered a design competition using one of his patterns, he realized it was becoming a habit.""
Nia remembered Brianna receiving a youth fashion award at seventeen.
Their mother had organized a celebration.
Nia had attended.
She remembered the blue dress Brianna wore that night.
A dress their father had designed.
"Did Dad know Mom was helping her?""
Evelyn nodded.
"He confronted both of them.""
Nia looked down at the documents.
"Why didn't he tell me?""
"He wanted to protect you. He knew you loved your sister. He didn't want you growing up believing that your family was divided.""
Nia swallowed.
"And the letter?""
Evelyn nodded.
"He wrote it because he knew he might not have much time left.""
Nia looked up.
"What do you mean?""
Evelyn took a long breath.
"Your father was very ill during that period. He knew he needed to put the business arrangements in order.""
Nia felt tears gathering.
She remembered the last few weeks of his life.
How he had spent more time in the hospital.
How Vanessa had insisted that Nia stay home to finish school assignments.
How her father had asked to see her one evening, only for Vanessa to say he was too tired.
Nia had believed her.
Now she wondered how many times her mother had kept her away.
Evelyn gently placed another envelope on the table.
"This was supposed to be given to you when you turned twenty-one.""
Nia looked at the handwriting.
Her name.
Nia.
She opened it.
My little designer,
I know you sometimes wonder why I spend so much time teaching you things that other people might consider unnecessary.
It's because I want you to know the difference between owning something and deserving it.
Ownership can be written on paper. Talent can be displayed on a stage. But integrity is something you carry when nobody is watching.
Your mother and I have not always agreed about the future of this business. I hope one day she understands that protecting a family name is more important than wearing it.
If anyone ever tells you that your work belongs to them, remember this: you do not need permission to defend what you created.
I love you.
Dad.
Nia pressed the letter against her chest.
For a few moments, she couldn't speak.
Then Evelyn opened a small wooden box.
Inside lay a silver embroidery needle.
Its handle was engraved with the initials R.C.
"He wanted you to have this," Evelyn said.
Nia picked it up carefully.
Her father had used that needle to teach her the Carter Signature Stitch.
She turned it over.
On the opposite side were three tiny words.
*MAKE IT YOURS.*
Nia smiled through her tears.
"Thank you.""
Evelyn nodded.
"Now, there's something else.""
She placed a final document on the table.
It was a legal notice dated four weeks earlier.
Vanessa had attempted to register the Carter Signature Stitch under Brianna's name.
The application had been rejected.
But attached to it was a handwritten statement.
Nia read it slowly.
Brianna Carter has been the creative force behind the family's fashion designs for several years. Nia Carter has assisted with sewing and technical execution.
Nia felt sick.
Her own mother had signed it.
Below the statement was Vanessa's signature.
And beside it, a witness signature.
Nia recognized the name.
It belonged to someone who would be standing beside Brianna at the showcase that evening.
The event's senior sponsor.
*Harold Whitmore.*
Evelyn looked at her.
"Your mother didn't just want to give Brianna the gown. She wanted to transfer the entire legacy.""
Nia closed the folder.
"Then we have to stop them.""
Evelyn nodded.
"Your father would be proud.""
Nia placed the silver needle inside her bag.
Then her phone rang.
Daniel Reed.
"Ms. Carter, where are you?""
"At the old Carter shop.""
"Good. I need you at the venue immediately.""
"Why?""
His voice was tense.
"Your sister has requested an emergency design review. She's claiming the gown was damaged during your construction process.""
Nia stood.
"What?""
"She's submitted photographs showing a loose section of embroidery.""
Nia looked at the archive.
"That's impossible. I finished that section myself.""
"There's another problem.""
"What?""
"She's claiming you deliberately inserted unauthorized markings into the garment.""
Nia stared at the silver needle in her hand.
Then she understood.
Brianna wasn't simply trying to steal the gown anymore.
May you like
She was trying to turn the evidence of its true ownership into proof of misconduct.
And if the committee believed her, Nia might lose the chance to defend herself before the runway opened.
Related Stories
