Chapter 5: The Man My Mother Never Trusted
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
The warehouse lights hummed overhead.
I looked at Vanessa.
Then at Daniel.
Then back at Vanessa.
"My father?""
She folded her arms.
"Ask him.""
"You're lying.""
"Am I?""
Daniel stepped forward.
"Vanessa, don't do this.""
She turned on him.
"You've had years to tell her the truth. Why should I protect you now?""
I felt my pulse pounding in my ears.
"What truth?""
Daniel lowered his eyes.
Vanessa smiled without warmth.
"Your father wasn't an innocent bystander in what happened to your mother's designs.""
I shook my head.
"My dad had nothing to do with fashion.""
"He had everything to do with the money.""
Daniel finally spoke.
"Your mother was preparing to take legal action against Margaret Ellis and Vanessa. She believed they had used her designs without permission.""
"Did they?""
"Yes.""
My throat tightened.
"Then why didn't she sue?""
Daniel looked toward the floor.
"Because your father persuaded her not to.""
I couldn't believe what I was hearing.
"Why?""
"Your parents were struggling financially at the time. Robert had invested money in a small manufacturing company connected to Margaret's fashion business. If your mother filed a lawsuit, the company could collapse.""
Vanessa interrupted.
"Your father was afraid of losing his investment. He convinced Claire that the dispute would destroy the family.""
I stared at her.
"Did my mother agree?""
"Not at first.""
Daniel nodded.
"She eventually agreed to delay the case. But she kept the original sketches, the lace records, and her correspondence.""
"Why didn't Dad tell me?""
Vanessa gave a cold laugh.
"Because he wanted you to believe your mother died peacefully, surrounded by people who loved her.""
I felt tears gathering in my eyes.
"She did die surrounded by people who loved her.""
Vanessa looked away.
"Not everyone.""
Daniel reached into the envelope and removed another document.
It was a letter addressed to my father.
The date was three weeks before my mother's death.
I recognized her handwriting.
Robert, I have agreed to postpone the lawsuit because I cannot bear the thought of Eleanor growing up in a broken home. But I need you to understand something. I am not giving up my work. I am protecting it until our daughter is old enough to understand what happened.
I pressed the letter against my chest.
My mother had known.
She had known something was wrong, and she had tried to protect me.
"Why are you showing me this now?"" I asked Daniel.
He looked at me.
"Because Vanessa has started using the same methods again. And this time, she is involving Brianna.""
Vanessa scoffed.
"Don't pretend you're some hero.""
Daniel ignored her.
"Your mother gave me copies of the original contracts. I kept them because I thought one day you'd need them.""
I looked at the documents.
There were invoices, design sketches, letters, and a list of registered fabric purchases.
One invoice caught my attention.
It was dated several months before my mother died.
The description read:
French floral wedding lace, original Claire Bennett collection.
Beneath it was an amount.
$18,500.
I stared.
"Who purchased this?""
Daniel pointed to the buyer's name.
Vanessa Cole.
My stepmother had purchased the lace from my mother's collection.
But why?
"Did my mother sell it to her?""
"No," Daniel replied.
"The transaction was disputed. Your mother claimed Vanessa had used company funds to buy material that belonged to her personally.""
Vanessa stepped forward.
"That's enough.""
Daniel turned.
"You know it's true.""
"You don't have the full story.""
"Then tell her.""
Vanessa looked at me.
For a moment, her expression softened.
"Eleanor, your mother wasn't the saint you think she was.""
I felt my jaw tighten.
"Don't talk about her like that.""
"She was stubborn. Selfish. She thought everyone owed her something because she was talented.""
"She worked herself to exhaustion to raise me.""
"And she made everyone around her miserable.""
Daniel shook his head.
"That's not fair.""
Vanessa ignored him.
"Your father gave her everything. A home. Security.
A family. And she still couldn't stop chasing some imaginary fashion empire.""
I stepped closer.
"She wanted to create something.""
"She wanted recognition.""
"There's nothing wrong with that.""
Vanessa's eyes hardened.
"Maybe not. But some people don't know when to stop.""
She turned toward the exit.
"Give me the documents.""
I held the envelope against my chest.
"No.""
Vanessa looked at Daniel.
"You have no idea what you've started.""
Then she walked out.
The car engine started.
A few seconds later, she was gone.
I turned to Daniel.
"Why did my mother trust you?""
He looked exhausted.
"Because I was the only person who helped her preserve the original paperwork.""
"Did you know about the wedding lace registration?""
"Yes.""
"Then why didn't you tell me when she died?""
He swallowed.
"I thought Vanessa would leave you alone if you stayed out of the dispute.""
I shook my head.
"She stole the last thing my mother gave me.""
Daniel closed his eyes.
"I'm sorry.""
I wanted to be angry with him.
But I could see the guilt on his face.
And right now, I needed answers more than apologies.
"Is there anything else?""
Daniel nodded.
"One more thing.""
He pulled out a small photograph.
It showed my mother standing beside a dress form.
The gown on the form was midnight blue.
My breath caught.
It looked almost exactly like the dress I had created.
Except this photograph was dated eleven years earlier.
I looked closer.
The neckline was different, but the silhouette was unmistakable.
"She designed this?""
"Yes.""
"Why didn't I know?""
"She called it the Midnight Collection. She never finished the garments.""
I stared at the photograph.
My mother had imagined a midnight-blue gown long before I ever began mine.
The lace, the color, the flowing silhouette.
It hadn't been coincidence.
I had unconsciously recreated something she once dreamed of making.
Daniel touched the photograph.
"She wanted to finish that collection with you someday.""
I couldn't speak.
Then he handed me a small business card.
It belonged to Margaret Ellis.
"She's still alive," he said.
"And she knows where the original collection went.""
I looked at the address.
A fashion archive in Providence.
"Why didn't you tell Patricia?""
"Because Margaret has powerful connections. She has friends on the scholarship committee. If she gets involved, things could become complicated.""
I slipped the card into my bag.
"Then I'll speak to her.""
Daniel nodded.
"Be careful.""
Maya and I left the warehouse.
In the car, she remained quiet for several minutes.
Finally, she said, "Your father needs to explain himself.""
I looked out the window.
"I know.""
When I returned home, my father was waiting in the living room.
He looked at the envelope in my hands.
"Where did you get those?""
I stopped.
"Daniel.""
His face went pale.
"Why were you talking to him?""
"Because he told me what happened to Mom's designs.""
Dad sat down.
I placed the letter on the coffee table.
"Did you know Vanessa had been involved in stealing her work?""
He rubbed his forehead.
"Eleanor, this is complicated.""
"Then explain it.""
He remained silent.
"Did you help Vanessa?""
He looked up.
"I never stole anything from your mother.""
"That's not what I asked.""
His eyes filled with something I couldn't identify.
Regret, perhaps.
Or fear.
"I made a mistake," he whispered.
"What mistake?""
"I signed a document.""
I felt my chest tighten.
"What document?""
He looked at the letter.
"Your mother had discovered that Vanessa was using her designs. I was afraid the business would collapse. I signed an agreement saying the collection had been developed jointly.""
I stared at him.
"You gave Vanessa credit for Mom's work?""
"It was supposed to be temporary.""
"Did Mom know?""
He didn't answer.
I stepped backward.
"She knew.""
My father covered his face.
"She found out the next day.""
I felt sick.
"That's why she wrote the letter.""
He nodded.
"She was furious. She told me she would never forgive me if I allowed anyone to take her work.""
I looked at the man who had raised me.
For years, I had believed my mother and father had shared a perfect marriage.
Now I was discovering that the woman I loved most had spent her final months fighting people she trusted.
"Why did you marry Vanessa?""
Dad looked up.
"Because I thought I could put the past behind us.""
"Did you know what she did with Brianna's scholarship application?""
"No.""
"Did you know she forged my signature?""
His silence was answer enough.
I picked up my bag.
"Where are you going?""
"To find the truth.""
"Eleanor, please.""
I stopped at the doorway.
"Mom asked you to protect her work. You promised her.""
He lowered his head.
I walked away.
That night, I visited the Providence archive alone.
Margaret Ellis was waiting in a small office filled with old fashion magazines and framed sketches.
She was an elegant woman in her seventies.
When I introduced myself, she stared at me for a long moment.
"Claire's daughter?""
"Yes.""
She motioned for me to sit.
"I wondered when someone would finally come looking.""
I placed my mother's photograph on the desk.
"Did you know she designed this collection?""
Margaret examined it.
Then she opened a locked drawer.
Inside were several original sketches.
And a thick folder bearing my mother's name.
"I've kept these for eleven years," she said.
"Why?""
Margaret looked at me.
"Because Vanessa Cole was never supposed to have them.""
My hands trembled.
"Where did the original collection go?""
Margaret opened the folder.
"The designs were never destroyed. They were transferred.""
"To whom?""
She turned the first page toward me.
A company name appeared.
*COLE INTERNATIONAL FASHION GROUP.*
I recognized the name from Brianna's scholarship portfolio.
May you like
Margaret looked into my eyes.
"Your stepmother has been using your mother's original collection to build her family's fashion business for more than a decade.""
