Chapter 3: The Letter My Mother Left Behind
Nobody spoke.
The music continued playing, but it sounded distant.
My father stared at Vanessa.
“What did you just say?””
Vanessa blinked.
“I meant the old arrangements. Nothing more.””
I stepped forward.
“Give me the letter.””
She tightened her grip.
“Maya, you don't understand what you're getting yourself into.””
“It's addressed to me.””
“Your mother was confused when she wrote it.””
Mr. Harrison moved closer.
“Mrs. Bennett, that letter belongs to Maya.””
Vanessa shook her head.
“It's a family matter.””
“Then you should have no problem returning it to a member of the family.””
My father finally reached for the envelope.
“Vanessa. Give it to her.””
She looked at him.
For the first time, I saw something unfamiliar in her expression.
Fear.
Not anger. Not embarrassment.
Fear.
Slowly, she handed me the letter.
My fingers trembled as I unfolded it.
The paper smelled faintly of lavender.
My mother had always kept lavender sachets in her drawers.
I recognized her handwriting immediately.
My dearest Maya,
If you are reading this, it means I wasn't able to explain everything to you myself.
My throat tightened.
I continued.
There are things about our family that I wish I could protect you from. But I have learned that secrets don't disappear just because good people stay quiet.
I looked up.
My father had lowered his head.
Vanessa stood completely still.
I read the next lines.
The silver crescent is more than a symbol. It identifies the original collection I created before I married your father. Every design, every sketch, and every finished piece belongs to the Eleanor Bennett Collection.
I have placed the collection in a trust for you. No one may sell it, transfer it, or claim ownership without your consent.
My heart pounded.
The letter continued.
If anyone tells you that the collection belongs to them, ask them why they were so desperate to hide the original documents.
I stopped reading.
“Dad?””
He didn't look at me.
“Did you know about this?””
Richard rubbed his forehead.
“Maya, your mother was very talented. But after she died, there were legal complications.””
“What complications?””
Vanessa interrupted.
“Your father was trying to protect the family.””
I turned toward her.
“I didn't ask you.””
Her lips parted.
Then closed.
Mr. Harrison gently took the folder from the coordinator.
“Richard, I think you should explain.””
My father looked at the guests gathering around us.
“This is a private matter.””
“Then let's go somewhere private,” I said.
He nodded toward a small conference room beside the ballroom.
We entered together.
Mr. Harrison followed.
Vanessa came last, with Brielle trailing behind her.
The room was quiet except for the hum of the air conditioner.
I placed my mother's letter on the table.
“Tell me what happened.””
My father sat down.
“Your mother designed costumes and theatrical pieces for several major clients. Her collection became valuable after she won an international competition.””
“Then why did I never see it?””
He glanced at Vanessa.
She stared at the floor.
“After your mother died, I was overwhelmed. There were debts, legal documents, and a lot of responsibilities.””
“What happened to the trust?””
My father rubbed his hands together.
“Vanessa helped organize the estate.””
I looked at my stepmother.
“And?””
“She said the collection had been transferred to cover outstanding expenses,” he continued.
“Transferred to whom?””
He didn't answer.
Mr. Harrison opened his folder.
“According to the foundation's records, the collection was never legally transferred. The trust remains active, but the original inventory disappeared.””
I looked at Vanessa.
“Where is it?””
She gave a small, dismissive laugh.
“I have no idea.””
Brielle shifted in her chair.
“Mom, maybe we should just go.””
Vanessa shot her a warning look.
I noticed it.
So did Mr. Harrison.
He leaned forward.
“Brielle, do you know anything about the collection?””
“No.””
Her answer came too quickly.
I looked at the white wings still attached to her dress.
“Then why were you wearing my mother's designs?””
Brielle rolled her eyes.
“Those are just feathers.””
“Not according to the man who created the foundation.””
Vanessa stood.
“This conversation is over.””
Mr. Harrison remained seated.
“No. It isn't.””
He opened another section of the folder and placed a printed photograph on the table.
It showed a display cabinet in a luxury design showroom.
Inside were several elaborate costume pieces.
A pair of white wings.
A silver halo.
And a black feathered cape.
I leaned closer.
The white wings were almost identical to the ones I had made.
The silver halo had the same crescent symbol.
And beneath the photograph was a name.
*Brielle Bennett — Exclusive Designer Collection.*
I looked at Brielle.
She had gone pale.
“What's this?””
Mr. Harrison tapped the photograph.
“These pieces were advertised as original designs by Brielle Bennett. They were recently submitted for consideration for an international youth design award.””
I looked at my stepsister.
“You designed these?””
Brielle swallowed.
“Mom helped me.””
“Helped you with what?””
Vanessa stepped between us.
“Brielle has been studying fashion for years.””
I pointed at the photograph.
“Those are my mother's designs.””
“They're inspired by old fashion trends,” Vanessa snapped.
Mr. Harrison shook his head.
“Not according to the original sketches.””
He removed another sheet.
It contained a scanned drawing.
My mother's signature appeared at the bottom.
I recognized it instantly.
The same looping E. The same tiny heart she used to draw beside her name.
My eyes filled with tears.
“She made that.””
Mr. Harrison nodded.
“Yes.””
Then he looked at Brielle.
“Your submission claims that you created the entire collection independently. Is that correct?””
Brielle glanced at Vanessa.
Nobody answered.
I looked back at my father.
“You knew?””
He finally raised his eyes.
“I knew Vanessa had some of your mother's sketches. I didn't know they had been submitted under Brielle's name.””
I felt sick.
“You let them take everything?””
“Maya, I was trying to keep the peace.””
I laughed.
It was a small, broken sound.
“You kept the peace by letting them steal from Mom?””
My father flinched.
Vanessa slammed her palm against the table.
“Enough! Eleanor is dead. She can't use those designs anymore.
Brielle has a future. Why should everything be handed to you?””
Mr. Harrison stood.
“Because the law doesn't transfer ownership to whoever wants something badly enough.””
Vanessa stared at him.
Then she turned to me.
“You think a few old sketches make you special?””
I held my mother's letter tightly.
“No. I think they make me her daughter.””
For a moment, nobody moved.
Then Brielle spoke.
“Mom, maybe we should tell her.””
Vanessa spun around.
“Be quiet.””
Brielle's eyes filled with tears.
“You said the papers were destroyed.””
My father stood abruptly.
“What papers?””
Brielle looked toward me.
Then toward the folder.
“There was a second trust document,” she whispered.
“Mom kept it in her bedroom safe.””
Vanessa grabbed her daughter's wrist.
“Brielle!””
But it was too late.
Mr. Harrison turned to Vanessa.
“A second document?””
Vanessa released Brielle.
Her face had become completely expressionless.
Then she looked at my father.
And said six words that changed everything.
“Richard, you signed the transfer yourself.””
My father went white.
I stared at him.
“What transfer?””
He opened his mouth.
But before he could answer, Mr. Harrison's phone rang.
He checked the screen.
His expression changed.
“Excuse me,” he said, stepping toward the door.
A moment later, he returned.
“Maya, there's something else you need to know.””
He placed his phone on the table.
A photograph filled the screen.
It showed the inside of Vanessa's bedroom safe.
And lying beside a stack of jewelry was a sealed envelope bearing my mother's handwriting.
My name was written across it.
May you like
But beneath my name was a sentence that made Mr. Harrison look directly at my father.
*If Richard has signed away my daughter's inheritance, this letter must be opened immediately.*
