Chapter 10: The Sister Who Wore My Grandmother’s Name
Mom called Catherine back eleven times.
Every call went unanswered.
On the twelfth attempt, a recorded message told us the number was unavailable.
Mom lowered the phone slowly.
"What does she mean, Richard sold the collection under another woman's name?""
I sat at the kitchen table with Grandma's letters spread around me. The blue dress hung from the back of a chair, its red roses catching the light from the window.
"I think we need to find Catherine's sister.""
Mom rubbed her forehead.
"Her name was Victoria. I remember Eleanor mentioning her once. She was a fashion designer in New York.""
"Was she successful?""
"Very. Her collection appeared in magazines when I was younger. I remember seeing her photograph in a department store window.""
I searched the name online.
Within seconds, dozens of results appeared.
Victoria Vale.
A celebrated designer whose collections had been worn by celebrities, featured in luxury boutiques, and praised for their romantic silhouettes and intricate handwork.
Her official biography described her as a self-taught designer who had discovered her talent while helping her family with a small clothing business.
There was no mention of Eleanor Bennett.
I clicked on an article about her first major collection.
The headline read:
*VICTORIA VALE: THE WOMAN WHO REINVENTED AMERICAN EVENINGWEAR.*
The article featured a photograph of a blue gown with a fitted bodice and a flowing skirt.
I stopped breathing.
It was Grandma's design.
Not a similar design.
The same design.
Even the small embroidered detail along the waist appeared in Grandma's original sketchbook.
Mom leaned over my shoulder.
"Oh, Eleanor.""
I scrolled farther.
The article credited Victoria with creating the collection in 2017, one year after Grandma died.
The first gown had been called The Catherine Blue.
I stared at the name.
Catherine's wedding dress.
The dress Richard had claimed was stolen.
"Mom, look at this.""
I showed her the photographs of the collection.
Her face grew pale.
"That's your grandmother's work.""
"How can we prove it?""
"The sketchbooks. The dated letters. The original agreement.""
"And the recording.""
Mom nodded.
"We need Catherine to explain what she knows.""
I returned to the article and found a recent interview with Victoria Vale. She was scheduled to appear at a charity fashion exhibition in Boston the following week.
The exhibition's website listed Lawson Atelier as a major sponsor.
I laughed bitterly.
"Of course.""
Mom studied the screen.
"Emily, we cannot walk into a room full of wealthy people and accuse a famous designer of stealing your grandmother's work without knowing exactly what happened.""
"I'm not going to accuse her of anything yet.""
I opened Grandma's sketchbook and placed it beside the photograph.
"I'm going to ask her why her signature collection looks exactly like this.""
That afternoon, Denise met us at a small conference room near the school.
She had reviewed the initial evidence and prepared a summary of the documents we had discovered.
"The original agreement is significant," she said.
"But we need to distinguish between what it proves and what it doesn't. It supports Eleanor's ownership of the original designs. It doesn't automatically establish that every later garment was copied unlawfully.""
"Then what do we need?"" I asked.
"Evidence connecting the original designs to Victoria Vale's collection. Production records, dated sketches, correspondence, or testimony from someone involved.""
Mom placed Catherine's photograph on the table.
"She may be able to provide that testimony.""
Denise examined it.
"Have you spoken to her?""
"Briefly. She said Richard sold the collection under her sister's name. Then the call disconnected.""
Denise wrote something in her notebook.
"Let's not contact Victoria directly until we've preserved the current evidence. If she was involved knowingly, she may have reason to destroy records. If she wasn't, she deserves an opportunity to explain herself.""
I knew Denise was right.
But waiting felt unbearable.
My grandmother had spent years believing that the truth would eventually emerge. Now, after her death, I was being asked to be patient while the people who profited from her work continued to celebrate it.
I looked at the blue dress.
"I have a showcase in three days," I said.
"Richard is trying to get me disqualified, and his company sponsors the event where Victoria will appear.""
"Then we prepare carefully," Denise replied.
"You can still participate in the showcase while we investigate the ownership dispute.""
She closed the folder.
"And Emily, don't let Richard turn this into a contest over who has more money or influence. Your job is to tell the truth and preserve the evidence.""
The next morning, a courier delivered a thick envelope to our apartment.
It contained a formal notice from Lawson Atelier's legal department.
The company demanded that I withdraw my dress from the school showcase and stop displaying photographs of it publicly.
Failure to comply, the letter stated, could result in legal action.
Mom read it twice.
"They're trying to frighten you into giving up.""
I looked at the final paragraph.
"They're succeeding at one thing.""
"What?""
"Making me angry.""
I photographed the notice and sent it to Denise.
Then I called the number Catherine had given us.
This time, a woman answered.
"Hello?""
"Catherine? It's Emily Bennett. We spoke yesterday.""
Silence.
"I need to ask you about Victoria Vale," I continued.
"I found her collection online. It includes my grandmother's designs.""
Catherine exhaled shakily.
"I know.""
"Then why did you let her use them?""
"I didn't know she was using them until it was too late.""
"How could that happen?""
Catherine's voice trembled.
"Because Richard told us Eleanor had signed everything away. He showed Victoria a document bearing your grandmother's signature. He said the collection belonged to Lawson Atelier and that Victoria had purchased the rights.""
"But Grandma's agreement says otherwise.""
"Yes. We discovered that years later.""
"Why didn't you expose him?""
"Because by then, Victoria had built her entire career around those designs. Richard threatened to sue her if she questioned the contract. He told her she would lose everything.""
I thought of Brielle's fear.
Of my mother's silence.
Of all the people Richard had controlled by making them believe the truth would cost more than they could afford.
"Where is Victoria now?"" I asked.
"Preparing for the Boston exhibition.""
"Will you come with me?""
Catherine was quiet for so long that I thought the call had dropped.
Then she said, "I will.""
Two days later, Mom and I arrived in Boston with Denise and a folder containing copies of Grandma's sketches, letters, and the original agreement.
The exhibition occupied a grand hotel ballroom decorated with white roses and gold lettering. Photographers waited beside a red carpet, and guests in expensive suits moved between displays of designer gowns.
At the center of the room stood a mannequin wearing The Catherine Blue.
The gown was breathtaking.
And it was my grandmother's.
I approached the display, studying the stitching along the waist. Beneath the glass case sat a printed biography crediting Victoria Vale with designing the collection in 2017.
A woman behind me spoke.
"Beautiful, isn't it?""
I turned.
Victoria Vale stood a few feet away, wearing a cream-colored suit and a pearl necklace.
She looked older than in the photographs, but her eyes were sharp.
"You're Emily Bennett," she said.
My stomach tightened.
"How do you know my name?""
She glanced toward the entrance.
"Richard told me you might come.""
I held her gaze.
"Then you know why I'm here.""
Victoria looked at the blue gown.
For a moment, her face softened.
"I wondered when Eleanor's family would find the truth.""
"Did you steal my grandmother's designs?""
Her expression changed.
Before she could answer, Richard Lawson appeared beside her.
He placed a hand on Victoria's shoulder.
"Emily, I believe we've already discussed this.""
I stepped back.
"No, Mr. Lawson. You've threatened me. That's not a discussion.""
Richard's smile tightened.
Victoria looked at his hand on her shoulder.
Then she gently removed it.
"I think," she said, "it's time I told her what happened.""
Richard's face went rigid.
"Victoria, don't.""
She looked directly at me.
"Your grandmother didn't simply lose her collection, Emily.""
She reached into her handbag and removed a folded document.
"She gave it to me.""
I stared at her.
"Why?""
Victoria's eyes filled with tears.
"Because I was the only person who could help her prove Richard had forged the transfer agreement.""
Then she unfolded the document.
At the top was my grandmother's signature.
May you like
And beneath it was a handwritten sentence that changed everything.
Victoria, if I cannot tell the truth myself, you must tell them what Richard did to Catherine.
