Chapter 8: The Woman Behind the Forgery
The following morning, Laura took us to her law office.
I barely recognized the building.
It was a tall glass structure in the center of downtown, with polished floors, quiet elevators, and receptionists who spoke in soft voices.
Lily sat beside me in the waiting area.
“You okay?”” she whispered.
I nodded, although my stomach was twisting.
Vanessa sat several chairs away.
She hadn't spoken much since giving Laura the email.
Her expensive handbag rested on her lap, but she kept staring at her hands.
I didn't know what to think about her anymore.
She had destroyed my dress.
She had tried to humiliate me.
But she'd also given us evidence that could expose her mother.
Laura finally appeared.
“Emma, Vanessa, come in.””
We entered her office.
Several documents were spread across a large desk.
Laura pointed to two chairs.
“I've received the preliminary registry report.””
She placed a printed record in front of me.
“The Willow Street property was legally transferred into your mother's trust in 2021. Claire remained the sole beneficial owner until her death, after which the property passed to you.””
I looked at the dates.
Everything was exactly as my mother had arranged.
“Then what was Patricia trying to do?””
Laura turned to another page.
“She submitted an application claiming that Claire had transferred the building to Richard before her death. The application included the photocopied document we examined yesterday.””
“Was it accepted?””
“No.””
I released a breath.
Laura continued.
“The registry rejected it because the document lacked the required supporting records. However, the application triggered an internal review because the signature appeared inconsistent with the archived documents.””
Vanessa leaned forward.
“Can they prove Mom did it?””
“They can investigate the submission. The email you provided is also relevant, but we need to authenticate it.””
Vanessa nodded.
Laura looked at her.
“Vanessa, I want to ask you something. Did your mother ever ask you to access Emma's belongings or interfere with her school applications?””
Vanessa hesitated.
Then she looked at me.
“She told me to take photographs of Emma's sewing projects.””
I frowned.
“What?””
Vanessa rubbed her forehead.
“Months ago, Mom asked me to photograph your sketches whenever you left your room.””
“Why?””
“She said she needed to know what you were working on.””
My stomach tightened.
I remembered coming home to find my sketchbook slightly out of place.
I'd assumed I'd been careless.
Vanessa continued.
“Mom was worried that the academy would contact you about the scholarship. She knew about your mother's designs and the property.””
Laura stopped writing.
“How did she know about the academy?””
Vanessa looked down.
“Because she found an old letter in Richard's office.””
Richard's name caught my attention.
“What letter?””
Vanessa glanced at me.
“It was from the academy. They'd invited your mother to join a special design program years ago. There was a note saying the program might consider her daughter for a future scholarship.””
I stared at her.
My mother had been offered an opportunity.
And the academy had remembered her.
Vanessa swallowed.
“Mom said if you got into the academy, you'd eventually find out about the studio. She didn't want that.””
I looked at Laura.
“Why would Patricia care about a fashion studio?””
Laura answered carefully.
“Because property can have substantial financial value. Particularly if it's located in a developing commercial area.””
She opened another document.
“The Willow Street building has recently been assessed at significantly more than its original purchase price.””
“How much?””
“Approximately six hundred thousand dollars.””
I stared at her.
Six hundred thousand.
My mother had purchased a small building, intending to turn it into a place where she could create dresses.
Now it was worth more than I'd ever imagined.
Laura continued.
“There is something else. The property has been approached by a development company interested in purchasing it.””
“Who owns the company?””
Laura checked the paperwork.
“Hayes Urban Properties.””
I froze.
Vanessa's face changed.
“That's Dad's company.””
Laura nodded.
“Richard is listed as a director.””
I looked at the documents again.
My stepfather's company had approached a property legally belonging to me.
“Did he know?””
Laura shook her head.
“We haven't established that. But the company submitted an inquiry three weeks ago, shortly before Patricia filed the disputed ownership application.””
Vanessa stood suddenly.
“Mom said the building was already going to be ours.””
Laura raised an eyebrow.
“Did she say why?””
Vanessa nodded slowly.
“She told me Richard had agreed to buy it from her.””
I frowned.
“But Richard didn't own it.””
“Exactly,” Laura replied.
The office fell silent.
Then Vanessa started crying.
Not loudly.
Just enough that her shoulders began trembling.
“I didn't know it was this bad.””
I stared at her.
“Did you know she wanted me to lose the scholarship?””
Vanessa nodded.
“Yes.””
“Did you know she told you to ruin my dress?””
She covered her face.
“Yes.””
My chest tightened.
“Then you knew enough.””
Vanessa lowered her hands.
“I know.””
For once, she didn't defend herself.
Laura gave us a moment before continuing.
“Emma, I want to make something clear. You don't have to forgive anyone. But we need to establish exactly what happened, and that requires cooperation.””
I nodded.
“What happens next?””
“We'll request the original documents, preserve the email evidence, and have the disputed signature examined by a qualified specialist. We will also notify the relevant authorities if the evidence supports a formal complaint.””
I looked toward Vanessa.
“Will she get in trouble too?””
Laura paused.
“That depends on what evidence establishes about her involvement.””
Vanessa nodded.
“I'll tell them everything.””
I didn't respond.
An hour later, Laura received another phone call.
She listened carefully.
Then she placed it on speaker.
A man's voice filled the room.
“Ms. Bennett, this is Martin Cole from the academy's historical design archive. I've located the original collection submitted by Claire Carter.””
Laura leaned forward.
“That's excellent. What did you find?””
There was a pause.
“Something unexpected.””
“What?””
“The collection includes a signed design agreement. Claire had entered into a partnership with Westbridge Academy to establish a scholarship in her daughter's name.””
My heart stopped.
“A scholarship in my name?””
“Yes. The agreement states that a portion of the proceeds from her original designs would fund an annual scholarship for a promising young designer from a financially disadvantaged background.””
I covered my mouth.
The man continued.
“There's also a handwritten note from Claire. She requested that the scholarship remain available to Emma if she ever pursued fashion design.””
I looked down at my mother's letter.
She had been preparing this future for me long before I understood what I wanted.
Laura asked another question.
“Was the agreement ever modified?””
The man hesitated.
“Yes. That's the unexpected part.””
My stomach tightened.
“What happened?”” I asked.
Martin continued.
“Several years ago, someone contacted the academy claiming to represent Claire's estate. They requested that the scholarship arrangement be canceled.””
Laura's expression sharpened.
“Who contacted you?””
A pause.
Then the answer came.
“Patricia Hayes.””
Vanessa gasped.
I gripped the edge of the desk.
“Did the academy agree?””
“No. We refused because the request wasn't accompanied by valid authorization. But we kept the correspondence.””
Laura slowly closed her eyes.
When she opened them, her expression was serious.
“Please send us a certified copy.””
“Of course.””
The call ended.
Vanessa looked as though she might collapse.
“Mom tried to cancel the scholarship too?””
I nodded slowly.
It was no longer just about a dress.
It was about a future my mother had carefully prepared, and someone had spent years trying to keep me from discovering it.
Then Laura's office phone rang again.
Her assistant spoke through the intercom.
“Ms. Bennett, there's a woman downstairs asking to see Emma. She says she worked for the Hayes family for several years.””
I frowned.
“Who?””
The assistant answered.
“Her name is Margaret.””
My heart jumped.
The housekeeper.
Laura stood.
“Bring her up.””
A few minutes later, Margaret entered.
She looked nervous, holding a large brown envelope against her chest.
“Emma,” she whispered.
I stood.
“Margaret?””
She nodded.
“I should have told you sooner.””
I stepped toward her.
“About what?””
She placed the envelope on Laura's desk.
“Your mother didn't leave only one letter.””
I stared at the envelope.
Margaret's eyes filled with tears.
“She left a recording too. And I kept it because I was afraid of what would happen if Patricia ever found out.””
Laura opened the envelope.
Inside was a small USB drive.
May you like
And a handwritten note.
For Emma, when she finally needs the truth.
