Chapter 9: The Woman Who Knew My Mother Best
Margaret Ellis arrived at our house the following morning.
She was seventy-two, according to Mrs. Collins, with silver hair, a straight posture, and a voice that sounded as if it had spent decades commanding rooms.
I stood near the front door, holding my mother's silver charm.
“Ms. Carter?”” she asked.
“Maya, please.””
She took my hands.
For several seconds, she didn't speak.
Then she said, “You have Eleanor's hands.””
My throat tightened.
“Did you know my mother well?””
Margaret laughed softly.
“Better than almost anyone. We built our first studio together when we were twenty-six.””
She entered the living room.
My father offered her coffee.
She declined.
“I don't think this conversation should take longer than necessary.””
Vanessa was already seated on the sofa.
Her presence had been unavoidable. She refused to leave the house while the documents were being reviewed.
Margaret noticed her.
“Vanessa.””
“Margaret.””
Neither woman sounded pleased.
I sat down.
“Please tell me what happened.””
Margaret placed a leather folder on the coffee table.
“Twenty years ago, Eleanor designed a collection that could have changed both our careers. It was called Moonlight. We spent nearly two years developing it.””
“What happened?””
“Vanessa worked for us as a sales coordinator. She was charming, ambitious, and extremely persuasive. Eleanor trusted her.””
Vanessa rolled her eyes.
“Here we go again.””
Margaret continued.
“One afternoon, we discovered that several original sketches had disappeared. We later found out they had been submitted to a private exhibition under Vanessa's name.””
My father looked at Vanessa.
“You said Eleanor gave you those designs.””
“She did!””
Margaret opened the folder.
“Then perhaps you can explain this.””
She removed a photocopy of an old contract.
It listed Eleanor and Margaret as joint creators of the collection.
Vanessa's name appeared only as a sales representative.
Margaret continued.
“We confronted her. She denied everything. But the damage was already done. Several retailers had signed preliminary agreements with Vanessa.””
I leaned forward.
“Why didn't you take legal action?””
“We tried.””
“What happened?””
Margaret's expression changed.
“Eleanor withdrew the complaint.””
I remembered the note in my mother's archive.
For the sake of her daughter.
Margaret nodded when I mentioned it.
“She was afraid the scandal would affect you. You were still very young. She didn't want you growing up surrounded by legal battles.””
I looked down.
“She never told me.””
“She wanted you to have a peaceful childhood.””
Vanessa interrupted.
“That's a very convenient story.””
Margaret turned toward her.
“Do you want me to show Maya the bank transfers?””
Vanessa fell silent.
Margaret continued.
“After Eleanor withdrew the complaint, I left the business. I couldn't continue working with someone I knew had stolen from us.””
“Why didn't you contact Mom?””
“I did. Several times.””
“Did she answer?””
“Eventually, yes. But she asked me not to get involved.””
I felt a knot form in my chest.
“Why?””
Margaret hesitated.
“Because she was afraid Vanessa would retaliate.””
My father looked confused.
“Retaliate how?””
Margaret glanced at him.
“You should ask your wife.””
Vanessa stood.
“I'm not sitting here listening to this.””
I turned toward her.
“Sit down.””
She froze.
It was the first time I had ever spoken to her that way.
I continued.
“You've spent years telling me what I can and cannot do. Today, you're going to answer my questions.””
Vanessa gave a bitter laugh.
“You think you're powerful because a few judges liked your dress?””
“No. I think I'm allowed to ask what happened to my mother.””
For a moment, she said nothing.
Then Margaret opened another section of the folder.
“This is the part Eleanor never wanted you to know.””
She placed a document in front of me.
It was a letter from a law firm.
The letter explained that Eleanor had been offered a settlement in exchange for transferring certain commercial rights to Vanessa.
I listened as Margaret read the terms.
The settlement amount was substantial.
But the payment had never been made.
Instead, the document showed that Eleanor had supposedly signed away her rights without receiving the agreed compensation.
“That's fraud,” my father whispered.
Margaret nodded.
“Potentially. But there's something more.””
She removed a second document.
It was a witness declaration.
The declaration claimed that Eleanor had voluntarily signed the agreement in the presence of two witnesses.
One was Vanessa.
The other was Richard Carter.
My father went completely still.
“What?””
Margaret placed the page closer to him.
“Your signature is here.””
He picked it up.
His breathing became uneven.
“I never signed this.””
Vanessa's face changed.
“Richard…”
He looked at her.
“Is this my signature?””
She didn't answer.
“Did you forge my signature?””
“Don't be ridiculous.””
He turned toward Margaret.
“When was this supposedly signed?””
“Twenty years ago. Three months after Eleanor withdrew her complaint.””
My father shook his head.
“I was out of the country that week. I was working in Chicago.””
Margaret nodded.
“We have a travel record confirming that.””
Vanessa suddenly shouted.
“You have no right to bring this into my house!””
I stood.
“Your house?””
She looked at me.
“Yes. This is my home.””
“My mother's home.””
“Richard bought this house!””
My father spoke quietly.
“Actually, Eleanor purchased it before we married.””
Vanessa went silent.
He continued.
“I only became a joint owner after her death.””
I turned toward him.
“Then why did you let Vanessa lock up Mom's studio?””
He had no answer.
Margaret placed another document on the table.
“This is the original property record. Eleanor also established a trust before she died.””
I frowned.
“A trust?””
“Yes. She placed certain creative assets and a portion of the property into a trust for your benefit.””
My father leaned forward.
“What?””
Margaret looked at him.
“Didn't you know?””
He shook his head.
Margaret explained that the trust had been created to protect my mother's intellectual property and ensure that I would inherit her original designs.
The trustee was Margaret herself.
And the trust had never been dissolved.
I felt my hands begin to shake.
“What does that mean for the designs Vanessa took?””
“It means they may never have belonged to her in the first place.””
Vanessa laughed sharply.
“This is nonsense. Eleanor was sick. She couldn't have made legal arrangements like that.””
Margaret opened the folder one last time.
“Actually, she did. With an independent attorney, several months before her death.””
Then she handed me a sealed letter.
The envelope was marked:
*TO MAYA — OPEN ONLY WHEN SOMEONE TRIES TO TAKE WHAT IS YOURS.*
I recognized my mother's handwriting.
My fingers trembled as I opened it.
My darling girl,
If this letter has reached you, someone has finally challenged the things I worked so hard to protect.
I need you to know that the Moonlight Collection was never simply a business project. It was my dream for you.
I wanted to build a design house where people could create without being judged by their bodies, their circumstances, or the expectations of others.
I saved the original patterns for you.
But there is one final thing you must know.
I stopped.
The next sentence was underlined twice.
The person who helped Vanessa take my collection was not a stranger.
My heart began pounding.
I continued reading.
It was someone I trusted with my life.
The final line contained a name.
I read it again.
Then a third time.
My father asked, “Maya? What does it say?””
I lifted my head.
My voice barely worked.
“Mom says someone in the family helped Vanessa.””
“Who?”” Margaret asked.
I held the letter tighter.
Then I said the name.
“Uncle Thomas.””
My father's older brother.
The man who had attended my mother's funeral.
The man who had once told me that she was the strongest woman he had ever known.
And the man who, according to my mother's letter, had helped destroy her life's work.
Margaret slowly closed her folder.
“Then there's something you need to understand, Maya.””
“What?””
She looked toward the window.
“Thomas isn't just the man who helped Vanessa steal the collection.””
She paused.
“He was the original owner of the company that sold it.””
My father stood abruptly.
“That company was dissolved years ago.””
Margaret shook her head.
“No, Richard. It wasn't.””
She opened another folder.
“The company still exists. And it has been earning money from Eleanor's designs under a different name.””
I felt the silver charm press into my palm.
“What name?””
Margaret answered.
“Carter House Designs.””
My father's company.
The company he had built after marrying my mother.
The company he had always told me was his greatest professional achievement.
And suddenly, I understood why Vanessa had never wanted me to find the locked room.
May you like
She hadn't simply stolen one dress.
She had been protecting an empire built on my mother's stolen work.
