Chapter 8: Forty-Eight Hours to Prove the Truth
At 7:03 the next morning, Nia stood in Evelyn Shaw's office with a folder full of sketches and a competition deadline that felt like a countdown to disaster.
Evelyn had already spread the available records across the conference table.
The disputed transfer agreement sat beside Elise's letter, the trust inventory, and a printed copy of Bellamy International's objection.
Nia placed her phone on the table.
“They want to stop me from competing.””
“They want the committee to believe there's enough uncertainty to justify holding your entry,” Evelyn replied.
“Our job is to answer that objection with evidence.””
“Can we do it in forty-eight hours?””
“We can assemble a strong response. Whether the committee accepts it is their decision.””
Nia pulled out her sketches.
“Here are the first drawings. This one is from four months ago. This is when I changed the blue pattern after spilling the paint. And this is the first version of the flexible shoulder structure.””
Evelyn examined each page.
“Excellent. Do you have the original digital files?””
“Yes. I photographed the sketches as I worked. I also recorded several videos.””
“Keep the original files untouched. We'll make copies for submission.””
Nia opened her laptop and brought up the videos.
In the first, she sat on her bedroom floor surrounded by fabric scraps, explaining how she intended to turn the ruined silk into a graduation gown.
In the second, she struggled to attach a row of crystals.
In the third, she held up the completed bodice and laughed when one of the butterflies came loose.
Evelyn watched quietly.
“These establish a timeline of your creative process. We'll include selected excerpts, along with your material receipts and the shop's records confirming your work.””
Nia hesitated.
“Will that prove the Blue Monarch is mine?””
“It can help prove that you independently developed your current design. The ownership of the historical collection is a separate issue. We need to address both without confusing them.””
Evelyn opened another folder.
“There's also the question of the trust. Bellamy claims that the collection was transferred before the trust became effective. We need the original registry file to determine whether the alleged transfer was valid.””
“Can we get it today?””
“I've requested an expedited copy. We're waiting for confirmation.””
Nia stared at the disputed contract.
“Whoever forged Dad's signature must have had access to his handwriting.””
“Possibly. But we should not assume forgery until the evidence is examined.””
Nia looked down.
She wanted someone to tell her the truth was simple.
That her father was innocent, Vanessa was responsible, and Bellamy had no rights to anything.
But the documents were complicated, the dates were old, and every answer seemed to lead to another question.
At 9:15, Evelyn received a call from the competition's legal coordinator.
She put it on speaker.
“Good morning, Ms. Shaw,” the coordinator said.
“We've reviewed the preliminary objection from Bellamy International. The committee is willing to consider a response, but we need a clear explanation of the design's relationship to the historical collection.””
Evelyn nodded.
“We can provide that.””
“The committee also needs to know whether the entrant intends to submit the Blue Monarch as a reproduction of a protected design or as an original work inspired by her own creative process.””
Nia leaned toward the phone.
“I designed the dress myself. I didn't know the Blue Monarch existed until after my family took my original gown.””
There was a brief pause.
“Do you have documentation supporting that timeline?””
“Yes. Hundreds of photographs, original sketches, and videos showing the design from the beginning.””
“Please submit those materials with a signed statement. The committee will review the entry before making a final determination.””
The call ended.
Nia exhaled.
“That sounds hopeful.””
“It is an opportunity,” Evelyn said.
“Now we need to make the evidence clear enough that the committee can understand it quickly.””
They worked through the morning.
Nia organized her sketches chronologically. Evelyn prepared a written statement explaining the distinction between Nia's independently developed gown and the unfinished historical design. They included photographs of the original ruined silk, the early blue patterns, and the first attempts at the flexible shoulder structure.
At noon, Mrs. Alvarez arrived carrying a large envelope.
“I found the receipts you asked for,” she said.
Inside were invoices for fabric, crystals, thread, and structural mesh. Several had been signed by Nia at the time of purchase.
Mrs. Alvarez also brought a statement confirming that Nia had worked on the original gown at the shop on several occasions.
“This doesn't establish every detail,” Evelyn said, “but it supports her timeline.””
Mrs. Alvarez looked at Nia.
“You made every stitch. Don't let anyone convince you otherwise.””
Nia smiled gratefully.
Then Evelyn's phone rang.
The trust administrator had responded.
Evelyn listened, wrote down a reference number, and asked several questions.
When she hung up, she looked relieved.
“The original registry file has been located. A certified copy should arrive this afternoon.””
Nia sat forward.
“What does it say?””
“We don't know yet. But the administrator confirmed that Bellamy's claim has been disputed in the trust records for years.””
“By whom?””
“Your mother originally challenged the transfer. After her death, I continued the objection on behalf of the trust.””
Nia's eyes widened.
“So you never accepted that they owned it?””
“Never. But the dispute was never fully resolved because the company failed to produce the original authorization.””
Nia felt a flicker of hope.
“Then why are they trying again now?””
Evelyn looked at the photograph of the Blue Monarch.
“Because your new design may have made them believe the collection could become valuable again.””
At 2:40 p.m., Nia's phone began vibrating repeatedly.
Brianna had posted a new video.
She sat in front of a mirror wearing the stolen graduation gown, her hair curled and her makeup professionally done.
“I've been seeing some really weird rumors online,” Brianna said to the camera.
“Apparently, someone is claiming that my graduation dress belongs to them. I think people need to understand that creativity is about inspiration, not jealousy.””
She held up the skirt.
“I designed this dress with my own vision. I chose the colors, the shape, and the details. Just because someone helped with the sewing doesn't mean they own the design.””
Nia stared at the screen.
Brianna had changed the story again.
Now she was admitting that Nia had sewn the dress while claiming that the creative decisions belonged to her.
The comments were divided.
Some people defended Brianna. Others asked why she had originally claimed to have made the gown herself.
One comment stood out.
*If you designed it, show us your sketches.*
Brianna replied:
*I don't have to prove myself to strangers.*
Nia looked at Evelyn.
“She knows she can't show anything.””
“Then don't give her an argument to distract from that fact,” Evelyn replied.
“We'll submit your evidence through the proper channels.””
Nia watched the video again.
Brianna had taken something that represented four months of work and turned it into a performance.
She could still hear the laughter from the hallway.
She could still feel the sting of Vanessa's hand.
But she no longer felt the same helplessness.
Brianna was making public claims.
Nia had the original work.
And the truth was beginning to take shape.
At 4:18 p.m., a courier delivered the certified registry file.
Evelyn opened the envelope carefully.
Inside were copies of the original licensing application, the disputed transfer agreement, and the registry's internal correspondence.
She read the first page.
Then the second.
Then she stopped.
Nia stood.
“What is it?””
Evelyn pulled a page from the middle of the file.
“This is the authorization record.””
Daniel, who had arrived shortly before the courier, leaned over her shoulder.
The record showed that the transfer agreement had been submitted after Elise's death. It also showed that the authorization had been challenged because the signature did not match the verified sample on file.
A handwritten note appeared in the margin.
*Secondary authorization received from family representative. Identity not independently verified.*
Nia pointed at the note.
“Who was the family representative?””
Evelyn checked the attached page.
The name was partly obscured by a black mark.
But the first letter remained visible.
V.
Daniel's face went pale.
“Vanessa.””
Evelyn didn't respond immediately.
“We need the unredacted file before drawing a conclusion. The registry may have a complete copy.””
She turned to the final page.
There, beneath the application number, was a reference to an attachment labeled *Guardian Authorization — Original*.
The attachment was missing from the certified packet.
Evelyn immediately called the registry.
The clerk confirmed that the attachment had been stored separately because it contained personal information. A request for access would be processed as quickly as possible.
Nia paced beside the table.
“Why would Vanessa have a guardian authorization?””
“Because she may have represented herself as someone authorized to act on your behalf,” Evelyn said.
“But we need the document before we can say that.””
Daniel sank into a chair.
“I never appointed her as Nia's guardian for the collection.””
“Then the original record will be important.””
Nia looked at her father.
“Did you ever sign a document giving Vanessa authority over my mother's designs?””
“No.””
“Did you ever tell her she could manage the trust?””
“No.””
Evelyn held up a hand.
“Let's stay focused. We need the complete record, and we need to finish Nia's competition response.””
They returned to work.
By 7:30 p.m., the submission package was complete. It included Nia's creative timeline, original sketches, photographs, receipts, and a statement explaining that she had developed the new gown without knowledge of the Blue Monarch's historical existence.
Evelyn submitted the package electronically.
A confirmation appeared on the screen.
*SUPPLEMENTAL EVIDENCE RECEIVED.*
Nia leaned back in her chair.
“Now we wait?””
“Now we wait for the committee's review,” Evelyn said.
“But we're not finished with the ownership dispute.””
Daniel looked at the clock.
“I should go home.””
Nia's stomach tightened.
“Is Vanessa there?””
“Yes.””
“Are you going to confront her?””
“I'm going to ask her about the contract.””
Nia shook her head.
“Not alone.””
Daniel looked at her.
“You're right.””
He called Evelyn and arranged to have any further discussion documented through the attorney.
Then he turned to Nia.
“I won't ask you to trust me just because I'm your father. I'll have to earn that.””
Nia nodded.
It wasn't forgiveness.
But it was a beginning.
At 8:06 p.m., an email arrived from the competition.
Nia opened it with trembling fingers.
*Your entry will remain under review pending clarification of the historical design dispute. No final decision has been made.*
She closed her eyes.
Not rejected.
Not accepted.
Still suspended between possibility and disaster.
Then Evelyn's phone rang again.
The registry had located the missing guardian authorization.
A scanned copy had been attached to the email.
Evelyn opened it.
Her expression went completely still.
Nia leaned over the desk.
“What does it say?””
Evelyn turned the screen toward her.
The document was dated two weeks after Elise's funeral.
It claimed that Nia's legal guardian had authorized Bellamy International to negotiate rights to the Blue Monarch collection on her behalf.
At the bottom was the guardian's signature.
*Vanessa Reed Carter.*
But beneath Vanessa's name was another line.
*Acknowledged and witnessed by: Daniel Carter.*
Daniel stared at the screen.
“I never saw this document.””
Nia looked from the signature to her father's face.
Someone had used Vanessa's name to claim authority over her mother's collection.
Someone had also attached Daniel's name as a witness.
And the document had been filed while Nia was still a child.
Evelyn enlarged the scan.
A small handwritten note appeared beside the witness line.
*Original signed copy retained by guardian.*
Nia's blood ran cold.
May you like
If the original still existed, it might be hidden somewhere in the house.
And Vanessa had controlled that house for years.
