Chapter 4: The Lie About Her Father
“Amina's father never intended for her to own that bakery.””
Yvette's words hung in the exhibition hall.
Amina stared at her stepmother.
For three years, she had heard Yvette describe her father as a generous man who had left the bakery in the family's care. She had accepted the explanation because she was grieving, exhausted, and too young to understand the paperwork surrounding the business.
But this was different.
“What did you just say?”” Amina asked.
Yvette adjusted the sleeve of her cream blazer.
“I said your father never intended for you to own the bakery.””
“Then why did he leave it to me?””
“He didn't.””
Amina felt her stomach tighten.
Sloane stood behind her mother, watching the exchange. The panic that had briefly appeared on her face was slowly being replaced by something else.
Confidence.
She stepped forward.
“See? This is what I've been trying to explain. Amina has always misunderstood her position in the family.””
Amina turned toward her.
“My father built that bakery before you even knew him.””
“And he married my mother,” Sloane replied.
“That made us family.””
“It didn't make you the owner of my work.””
Yvette raised her voice.
“Your father was sick, Amina. He wasn't thinking clearly during his final months. I handled the business because someone had to.””
“Did you handle it, or did you take it?””
Yvette's face tightened.
The audience remained silent.
Chef Warren placed both folders on the table.
“Mrs. Yvette, I appreciate that there may be a complicated family history here. But we are investigating a possible false authorship claim. I need answers related to the submitted work.””
Yvette gave him a polished smile.
“Of course, Chef. I simply want everyone to understand the circumstances.””
“Then let's establish the facts.””
He turned toward Amina.
“Do you have any documentation proving your father gave you the bakery?””
Amina nodded slowly.
“There was a letter.””
“Where is it?””
“In the bakery office. Inside his old recipe cabinet.””
Yvette immediately interrupted.
“That letter is irrelevant.””
“Why?””
“Because it was never legally finalized.””
Amina felt her heartbeat quicken.
“You told me it was a gift.””
“I told you what you needed to know at the time.””
The words struck harder than a slap.
Warren glanced at the coordinator.
“Please note that statement.””
Yvette's smile vanished.
“You cannot treat a private family conversation as evidence.””
“I can document what is said during an official competition inquiry.””
Sloane stepped beside her mother.
“Chef, can we please stop this? I entered a baking competition. I didn't come here to have my family dragged through the mud.””
Warren looked at her.
“Then answer my original question. How did you develop the blue roses?””
Sloane hesitated.
“I already told you. I created them.””
“Without using anyone else's designs?””
“Yes.””
“Without using another participant's written notes?””
“Yes.””
Warren nodded.
“Very well.””
He turned to the coordinator.
“Please preserve the original entry materials and photograph the cake from every angle.””
The coordinator began recording.
Amina looked down at her hands.
She wanted to ask about the letter. She wanted to know what her father had actually signed.
But the competition hall was full of cameras, strangers, and people waiting for someone to fall apart.
She wouldn't give Yvette that satisfaction.
Not anymore.
A few minutes later, during a short recess, Amina stepped into the hallway.
The air-conditioning was colder there. The distant hum of the exhibition hall sounded muffled behind the double doors.
She leaned against the wall and closed her eyes.
Then someone approached.
It was Chef Warren.
“May I speak with you?””
Amina straightened.
“Yes.””
He studied her expression.
“I've judged hundreds of cakes. I've seen copied designs, borrowed techniques, and participants who were better at marketing than decorating.””
He paused.
“But what concerns me about your case is the documentation.””
“What do you mean?””
“Your sketches are unusually detailed. They show development, not simply a finished design. The construction notes also match the physical work.””
Amina nodded.
“I made those notes while learning from my father.””
“Do you still have the original notebook?””
“Yes.””
“Keep it safe. Don't let anyone remove or alter it.””
Amina swallowed.
“Chef, can I ask you something?””
“Of course.””
“If the bakery wasn't legally mine, does that mean everything I created there belongs to someone else?””
Warren took a moment before answering.
“Ownership of a business and authorship of a design are different questions. Don't let anyone confuse them.””
Amina looked down.
For years, Yvette had made those two things sound identical.
If the bakery belonged to the family, then Amina's work belonged to the family.
If Sloane represented the family, then Sloane could represent the work.
Warren continued.
“Your skill doesn't disappear because someone else owns the building where you learned it.””
Amina felt her eyes sting.
“Thank you.””
He nodded and returned to the hall.
Amina remained in the corridor for another minute.
Then her phone vibrated.
A message appeared from an unfamiliar number.
*You need to look inside your father's old blue recipe book. Don't trust Yvette.*
Amina read it twice.
Before she could reply, another message arrived.
*Check the envelope behind the back cover. Your father left something there.*
Her fingers went cold.
She called the number.
It rang once.
Twice.
Then someone answered.
“Amina?””
It was a man's voice.
She recognized it immediately.
“Mr. Collins?””
The caller was Daniel Collins, the former accountant who had managed her father's bakery finances for nearly fifteen years.
He had disappeared from the business shortly after her father's funeral.
Amina had been told he retired.
“Where are you?”” she asked.
“Listen carefully. I saw what happened at the competition. I recognized the blue roses.””
“Why didn't you tell me before?””
“Because I wasn't sure how much Yvette had changed.””
“Changed what?””
There was a pause.
Then Daniel spoke.
“Your father didn't leave that bakery to Yvette. He left it to you. And I have the original signed document.””
Amina gripped her phone.
“Where?””
“Not over the phone.””
“Mr. Collins, please. I need to know.””
He lowered his voice.
“There's something else. Your father's final letter names the person who stole his designs.””
Amina stopped breathing.
“Who?””
But the call ended.
And when she looked through the glass doors into the exhibition hall, she saw Yvette standing beside Sloane.
May you like
Her stepmother was holding a phone.
And she was staring directly at Amina.
