Chapter 8: My Father Finally Told the Truth
My father was waiting outside the competition office when I arrived.
He looked as though he hadn't slept in days. His shirt was wrinkled, his hair uncombed, and his hands shook as he held a paper cup of coffee.
When he saw me, he stood.
"Nia.""
I walked straight past him.
"Don't say my name like everything is normal.""
He followed me inside.
Patricia had arranged for us to use a private conference room. Laura Mitchell was already there, along with a representative from Bellamy House's legal department, a man named Richard Cole.
Richard wore a charcoal suit and a silver tie. He had the practiced expression of someone who delivered bad news for a living.
"Miss Carter," he said, standing.
"Thank you for coming.""
I took the chair opposite him.
"I want to know why your company is using a document that contradicts the hospital records.""
Richard folded his hands.
"Bellamy House acquired the collection through an agreement executed by the estate's representative. We have relied on that agreement for nine years.""
"The agreement says my mother signed it at 8:15 in the morning. She was unconscious in intensive care.""
"Our records indicate the signature may have been obtained before her hospitalization.""
"Then why does the document say otherwise?""
Richard glanced at my father.
"That is one of the matters under review.""
I turned toward Daniel.
"Tell them what you told me.""
He stared at the table.
"Dad.""
He lifted his eyes.
"Your mother refused to sign the transfer agreement on November 19.""
Richard's expression tightened.
"Mr. Carter, your written statement says otherwise.""
"I know.""
"Are you withdrawing that statement?""
My father looked at me.
For a moment, I thought he would retreat again. I saw the old fear in his face, the same fear that had allowed Vanessa to control our family for nearly a decade.
Then he reached into his jacket and removed a folded piece of paper.
"Yes," he said.
"I'm withdrawing it.""
Richard sat back.
"This is a serious matter.""
"I know.""
"Your previous statement was signed under oath.""
"I know that too.""
"Are you admitting that it was false?""
My father closed his eyes.
"Yes.""
The word seemed to echo around the conference room.
Patricia immediately asked that the statement be formally recorded.
Laura placed a document in front of him.
"Before you sign anything else, Daniel, I need you to explain exactly what happened.""
He looked at me.
"I'll tell you everything.""
"Start with the night Mom refused to sign.""
He nodded.
"Vanessa came to the house with the transfer agreement. She said Bellamy House needed a final signature before the collection could move into production. Your mother read the papers and refused.""
"Why did Vanessa think she could force her?""
"She had already negotiated a separate arrangement with the company. She believed she was entitled to a commission and ownership rights because she had helped secure the deal.""
"How much?""
"Twenty percent of the licensing revenue, plus a management fee.""
I stared at him.
"So she wasn't just stealing the designs. She wanted a permanent share of everything Mom created.""
He nodded.
"Your mother discovered the arrangement when she reviewed the final paperwork. She told Vanessa she would contact Bellamy House directly and report the unauthorized use of her sketches.""
"And you?""
"I tried to calm them both down.""
"Did you help Vanessa take the portfolio?""
My father looked at the floor.
"Yes.""
The admission was barely audible.
I felt the familiar ache of betrayal, but this time I didn't look away.
"Why?""
"Vanessa told me the deal would save the family financially. Your mother's medical bills were increasing. I was afraid we would lose the house.""
"So you decided Mom's work was yours to give away?""
"No.""
"Then what did you decide?""
He pressed his palms against his eyes.
"I decided not to stop Vanessa.""
For a moment, no one spoke.
That was the truth of it.
He hadn't needed to forge the signature himself to become part of the fraud. He had simply stepped aside when the person he loved wanted something badly enough.
"And the hospital?"" Laura asked.
My father lowered his hands.
"Your mother became ill during the night. I drove her to the hospital after she complained of severe chest pain and difficulty breathing.""
My body went cold.
"What time?""
"Just after midnight.""
"Was Vanessa with you?""
"No. She arrived later.""
"Did Mom regain consciousness?""
"Briefly, before they moved her to intensive care. She was frightened. She kept asking about the portfolio.""
I gripped the edge of the table.
"What did you tell her?""
"That I had it.""
"But you didn't.""
He shook his head.
"I told her what I thought would calm her down.""
My throat tightened.
"You lied to her while she was dying.""
"I know.""
"Did she ask you to protect me?""
He nodded.
"She told me not to let anyone take her work. She said the designs were yours one day, if you wanted them. She said you should have the choice she never had.""
I looked away, fighting the tears.
For years, I'd imagined my mother leaving me a legacy of sketches and sewing lessons.
I'd never imagined she had spent her final hours worrying that the people she trusted would take everything from us.
"What happened at 8:15?"" Laura asked.
My father swallowed.
"Vanessa arrived with the transfer agreement. She told me Bellamy House had threatened to withdraw the deal unless the paperwork was completed immediately.""
"Was your wife conscious enough to sign?"" Richard asked.
"No.""
"Did you see her sign?""
"No.""
"Then why did you sign as a witness?""
My father stared at the table.
"Vanessa told me the signature page had already been signed the previous evening. She said I was confirming that the agreement had been discussed with Evelyn.""
"But the document states that she signed at the hospital.""
"I didn't read the entire page.""
Richard shook his head.
"That is not a credible explanation.""
"I know.""
"Did you receive any payment?""
My father looked at me.
"I received money.""
I felt sick.
"How much?""
"Twenty-five thousand dollars.""
The room went silent.
I stared at him.
"Twenty-five thousand dollars.""
"It was transferred to my account two days after your mother's death.""
"What did you do with it?""
"I paid the hospital balance. The mortgage. Some of the debts.""
"And the rest?""
He looked down.
"I gave it back.""
"To whom?""
"Vanessa.""
"Why?""
"She told me the payment was an advance and that I needed to return it if the deal was going to remain valid.""
I laughed bitterly.
"You gave her back the money that was supposedly meant to help us.""
He didn't defend himself.
For once, he seemed to understand that there was nothing he could say to make his actions acceptable.
Richard stood.
"Bellamy House will need to conduct its own internal review. We cannot make any further statements until our legal department examines the original agreement and the evidence you've described.""
Laura nodded.
"That is reasonable. However, the company must preserve all relevant communications, payment records, and contract versions.""
Richard agreed, then left the room.
As soon as the door closed, I turned toward my father.
"What does Vanessa have on you?""
His face went pale.
I placed my phone on the table and showed him his message.
Vanessa has something she says will destroy us both if I tell the truth.
He stared at the screen.
Then he sat down heavily.
"There's another recording.""
I felt a chill.
"Another recording of what?""
"Your mother and me. The night before she died.""
"What does it show?""
He rubbed his hands together.
"Your mother discovered that I had helped Vanessa remove the portfolio. She confronted me in the kitchen. She was furious. She said she couldn't trust me anymore.""
I swallowed.
"What did you do?""
"I begged her to forgive me.""
"And?""
"She said she would tell Bellamy House everything in the morning.""
I stared at him.
"Then she became ill.""
He nodded.
"Vanessa claims she has a recording of our argument. She says it makes me look responsible for what happened to Evelyn.""
My heart began pounding.
"Responsible how?""
He shook his head.
"I don't know what she recorded. But she says if I contradict her, she'll release it.""
I stood.
"Then let her.""
He looked up sharply.
"Nia—"
"If the recording proves you did something wrong, people deserve to know. If it doesn't, then she's using it to frighten you. Either way, you can't keep letting her control the truth.""
He covered his face.
"I was there when your mother needed me, and I failed her.""
"Yes," I said, my voice shaking.
"You did.""
He looked at me through his fingers.
"I don't expect you to forgive me.""
"Good.""
I gathered my things.
"But I expect you to stop lying.""
He nodded.
"And if Vanessa has another recording, we need to hear it.""
Before I could leave, Patricia rushed into the room.
"Nia, we have a problem.""
She held out her phone.
A video had appeared on a local fashion news account. The headline read:
*ATLANTA DESIGNER ACCUSED OF STEALING DECEASED MOTHER'S WORK*
The footage showed my reconstructed gown on the runway.
Then it cut to a photograph of the transfer agreement bearing my mother's signature.
A narrator claimed that I had knowingly entered a competition using designs owned by Bellamy House, then attempted to discredit the company when challenged.
My face burned.
"They're making me look like a criminal.""
"Bellamy House hasn't officially released the video," Patricia said.
"But someone has leaked the documents.""
Laura took the phone.
"We need to determine the source.""
My father stared at the screen.
Then he whispered, "Vanessa.""
I looked at him.
"How do you know?""
"Because she told me she would make sure no one believed you.""
My phone rang.
An unfamiliar number.
I answered.
"Hello?""
A woman's voice came through.
"This is Helen Morris. I was Evelyn Carter's nurse on the morning she died.""
I stopped breathing.
"How did you get my number?""
"Your mother left something in the hospital's patient belongings room. It was never claimed. I recognized your name when I saw the news.""
My hand began to shake.
"What did she leave?""
"A small envelope. I've kept it all these years because I believed it might matter to someone someday.""
I pressed the phone against my ear.
"What's inside?""
Helen paused.
"A note in your mother's handwriting. And a photograph of someone standing beside her hospital bed at 8:15 that morning.""
My stomach dropped.
"Who?""
"I think you should see it yourself.""
I looked at Laura.
She was already reaching for her notebook.
"Where can we meet?"" I asked.
Helen gave me an address.
Then she said something that changed the entire shape of the case.
"Nia, the person in that photograph wasn't your father.""
I froze.
"Who was it?""
May you like
Helen's voice lowered.
"Your stepmother.""
