Chapter 3: The Factory Where My Father Disappeared
Uncle Marcus read the card twice.
Then he tore it in half.
“We're not going.””
I stared at the pieces in his hand.
“She has my dress.””
“She wants you to think that's the only thing she has.””
“What if she destroys it?””
“Then we'll find another way to recover the evidence.””
I shook my head.
“You don't understand. I spent six months making that gown. I sold everything I could to pay for it. I need the prize money.””
Marcus's expression softened.
“I understand more than you think.””
“No, you don't.””
The words came out louder than I intended.
I wiped my face with the heel of my hand.
“You were gone for six years. You weren't here when Dad died. You weren't here when Vanessa took over everything. You weren't here when my eyesight started getting worse and she told me I was making it up.””
Marcus lowered his gaze.
“You're right.””
I hadn't expected him to agree.
He sat on the edge of the bed, carefully avoiding the broken wood.
“I should have come back sooner.””
“Why didn't you?””
He looked toward the window.
“Because I was afraid.””
The answer unsettled me.
“Afraid of Vanessa?””
“Afraid of the people behind her.””
He took a breath.
“Your father discovered that someone was using his company to move money through shell businesses. At first, he thought it was an employee. Then he found documents linking the transfers to people who had enough influence to bury an investigation.””
“Who?””
“I don't know all their names. Daniel kept the records separate from his regular files. He believed someone inside the company was watching him.””
“And you knew?””
“He told me shortly before I disappeared.””
I stared at him.
“You disappeared because of Dad?””
Marcus nodded.
“Three days after we spoke, my boat was found overturned. The police declared me dead, but I had escaped before it went into the water. I knew someone wanted me gone. So I stayed gone until I could find proof.””
“Why didn't you contact me?””
His eyes filled with regret.
“I tried once. The letter came back unopened. After that, I discovered your phone calls were being monitored, and I realized contacting you could put you in danger.””
I thought of the years I had spent believing I had lost everyone who loved me.
My father.
My uncle.
Even the version of my life that existed before Vanessa took control.
“Then why come back now?””
“Because I saw the design on your dress.””
He reached into his coat and took out a photograph.
It showed my gown hanging on a mannequin in the workshop.
I recognized the image immediately.
I had posted it on the competition's private submission page three weeks earlier.
Marcus pointed toward the embroidered flowers.
“Your father used this pattern on the lining of his old document case. It was a design he created with your mother before she died.””
I looked at him sharply.
“My mother?””
I barely remembered her. She had died when I was four, and Vanessa had always insisted that Dad never kept anything from her.
Marcus continued.
“Your mother was a textile designer. She developed a method of hiding microscopic markings in embroidery, a kind of identification system that could verify whether a document or fabric sample had been altered.””
I stared at the dress's empty place on the floor.
“The blue flowers?””
“Possibly. Daniel believed someone had copied his business records. He wanted a way to identify the originals.””
I remembered the hundreds of hours I had spent stitching those flowers.
The unusual thread.
The strange pattern of tiny knots.
The way Dad's old sketchbook had shown a similar design.
I had assumed it was simply an artistic signature.
“What did he hide?””
“I don't know. But if he left something in that gown, Vanessa may have taken it without understanding what she has.””
My phone rang.
An unknown number.
Marcus raised his hand, warning me not to answer.
I did anyway.
A woman's voice came through the speaker.
“Nia Carter?””
“Who is this?””
“Someone who worked with your father.””
“What's your name?””
“Call me Evelyn.””
I exchanged a look with Marcus.
Evelyn continued.
“Your uncle shouldn't have come to the house.””
“Why?””
“Because Vanessa knows where he is now.””
“She already knew.””
“No. She suspected. Now she has confirmation.””
I swallowed.
“What do you want?””
“To help you recover what was taken.””
“Why should I trust you?””
“You shouldn't. Not yet.””
The honesty startled me.
Evelyn spoke quickly.
“Listen carefully. Your father's case was never closed in the way your family was told. There were missing reports, altered records, and a hospital entry that vanished from the public file.””
My pulse quickened.
“Room 314?””
Silence.
Then Evelyn whispered, “Who told you that?””
“I received a message.””
“From whom?””
“I don't know.””
She exhaled sharply.
“Then someone else has access to the records.””
“What happened in Room 314?””
“I can't explain over the phone. Meet me tomorrow morning at the old public library on Peachtree Street. Bring the photograph your father left you.””
Marcus shook his head.
I ignored him.
“Why the photograph?””
“Because the man standing behind your father in that picture was the last person who saw him alive.””
My fingers tightened around the phone.
“Who is he?””
Evelyn's voice dropped.
“Judge William Hargrove.””
I had heard that name before.
Everybody in Atlanta had.
He was a retired judge who had spent decades building a reputation as a champion of justice. His portrait hung in the courthouse, and his name appeared on plaques throughout the city.
He had also attended my father's funeral.
I remembered him shaking Vanessa's hand beside the grave.
He had told me that my father was a good man.
Now a stranger was telling me he had been the last person to see Dad alive.
“Evelyn,” I whispered, “what happened to my father?””
“I'll tell you tomorrow.””
“Why not now?””
“Because the last person who tried to tell you the truth ended up in the hospital.””
The call disconnected.
For several seconds, I couldn't move.
Then Marcus took the phone from my hand.
“We're not meeting her.””
“Why?””
“Because she knew about Room 314 before you mentioned it.””
“So?””
“So she may be the person who sent the messages. She may be working for Vanessa. She may be trying to lead us somewhere.””
I looked at the photograph on the bed.
“Or she may be the only person willing to help.””
Marcus said nothing.
Downstairs, a door slammed.
We both turned.
A moment later, Brianna appeared in the hallway.
She looked different without her usual confidence. Her mascara had smudged beneath her eyes, and she clutched a small leather purse against her chest.
“Nia,” she said.
Marcus stepped in front of me.
“What do you want?””
Brianna swallowed.
“To talk to my sister.””
I almost laughed.
“You only remember I'm your sister when you need something.””
Her face flushed.
“I know what I did was wrong.””
“You stole my dress.””
“Mommy took it.””
“And you helped her.””
Brianna looked down.
For the first time, she had nothing to say.
Then she opened her purse and removed a small object.
A brass key.
My heart stopped.
“Where did you get that?””
Brianna held it out.
“It was inside the dress. Mommy found it when she searched your room.””
I reached for it.
She pulled her hand away.
“There's something else you need to know.””
“What?””
“Mommy isn't taking the dress to the competition.””
“I know that.””
“No, Nia. You don't understand.”” Her voice trembled.
“She's going to burn it.””
The words hit me like a physical blow.
“Why?””
“Because she thinks the key opens something at the old Carter factory. She said if the dress is destroyed, nobody will ever find what your father hid.””
Marcus took a step toward her.
“When is she planning to do it?””
“Tonight.””
I grabbed the key from Brianna's hand.
“Where is the dress?””
Brianna looked toward the staircase.
“In the basement.””
I hurried past her.
Marcus followed, shouting for me to slow down.
The basement door was locked.
I could smell gasoline before I even reached the bottom step.
My stomach twisted.
“Vanessa!”” I screamed.
A match flared in the darkness.
My stepmother stood beside a metal barrel, holding my gown over the open rim.
The sapphire crystals caught the light.
For one terrible second, I saw every sleepless night reflected in the silk.
Then Vanessa smiled.
“You should have given it to Brianna when I asked.””
She dropped the gown into the barrel.
Flames climbed the white silk.
I lunged forward.
Marcus caught me around the waist as I screamed.
“No!””
Vanessa stepped back, watching the fire consume the train.
“You should have learned your place years ago.””
Brianna appeared at the top of the stairs.
“Mommy, stop!””
Vanessa turned toward her daughter.
“You stay out of this.””
“But the key—”
Vanessa froze.
I looked at Brianna.
Then at the key clenched in my hand.
Vanessa's eyes widened.
She had burned the dress believing the key was inside it.
But the key was still here.
I pulled free from Marcus and backed away from the flames.
“You don't have it anymore,” I whispered.
Vanessa stared at my fist.
For the first time in my life, she looked genuinely afraid.
Then she reached into her pocket and pulled out her phone.
“Call him,” she said to someone on the line.
“Tell him the girl has the key.””
She listened for a moment.
Then her expression changed.
“What do you mean he's already there?””
A man's voice came faintly through the speaker.
Vanessa's face drained of color.
She lowered the phone.
May you like
And when she looked at me again, she whispered four words.
“Your father is alive.””
