Chapter 5: The Daughter Who Signed the Papers
I stared at Maya's name until the letters seemed to move across the page.
"She was there?"" I asked.
Mr. Bennett studied the document again.
"According to this record, she witnessed the transfer.""
"But Maya was barely involved in my father's business. She didn't even know how to read a licensing agreement.""
"That doesn't mean she understood what she was witnessing.""
I wanted to believe that.
Maya had always followed Vanessa's lead, especially after my father died. She was spoiled, impulsive, and selfish, but I had never imagined her signing documents that could strip our father's company of its most valuable assets.
"Can we speak to her?"" I asked.
"Not before we verify the remaining records. I don't want to alert anyone who might destroy evidence.""
He placed the document in a protective sleeve.
"There's another name here.""
I leaned closer.
Beneath Vanessa's signature was the name of the recipient company: Vantage Creative Holdings.
Beside it was the signature of a man named Marcus Reed.
"Who is he?""
Mr. Bennett closed the folder.
"Your father's former financial adviser.""
I remembered Marcus Reed.
He had visited our house several times during my father's final months. He always wore polished shoes and carried a leather briefcase. Vanessa called him a trusted family friend.
My father never seemed comfortable around him.
Once, I had walked into the study and found the two men arguing over a stack of papers.
Marcus had been saying, "You can't keep treating your daughter like the only person who matters.""
My father had answered, "I will protect my daughter. That's not negotiable.""
When Marcus saw me, he immediately changed the subject.
I had forgotten the conversation until that moment.
"Was he involved in the company after my father died?"" I asked.
"His advisory contract ended shortly before Daniel's death. However, these documents suggest he remained involved in certain transactions.""
Mr. Bennett gathered the archive materials.
"I'll have the original agreements examined by a forensic document specialist. In the meantime, I recommend you avoid confronting Vanessa directly.""
I thought of the message waiting on my phone.
Come home immediately.
"You may already be too late," I said.
Mr. Bennett frowned.
"What do you mean?""
"She knows about the archive. She told me I had no idea what I'd started.""
His expression hardened.
"Then we need to act quickly.""
He arranged for copies of the documents to be secured with the trust's administrator and gave me a card for a property attorney who could advise me about my rights in the house.
I left the office with my father's letter tucked safely inside my bag.
For the first time, I had proof that Vanessa's version of our family's finances might not be true.
I also had something more valuable than money.
I had a reason to stop being afraid of her.
At 3:15 p.m., I returned to my father's house.
The front door was unlocked.
Inside, Vanessa stood in the living room beside three cardboard boxes. My childhood photographs had been removed from the hallway. My father's framed certificates were stacked against the wall.
Maya sat on the sofa, staring at her phone.
Vanessa turned when she heard me.
"Finally.""
I set my bag down.
"Why are you packing my father's things?""
"Because I'm reorganizing the house.""
"Those are his personal records.""
"Which I have every right to manage.""
"Not if the documents in the archive are correct.""
Her face changed.
It was a small change, barely more than a tightening around the eyes, but I saw it.
"You went to Bennett," she said.
I didn't answer.
Vanessa laughed bitterly.
"I should have known. Evelyn Brooks has been interfering in family affairs for years.""
"She hasn't interfered in anything. She asked questions after you stole my dress and someone submitted a false withdrawal request in my name.""
Vanessa slammed a cardboard box shut.
"You have no idea what you're talking about.""
"Then explain the transfer to Vantage Creative Holdings.""
Maya's phone slipped from her hand.
Vanessa stared at me.
"Where did you see that name?""
"In my father's archive.""
For several seconds, the only sound was the ticking clock above the fireplace.
Then Vanessa walked toward me.
"You need to understand something, Nia. Your father was sick. He made promises he couldn't afford to keep. He left behind debts, unfinished projects, and a company that was collapsing.""
"Mr. Bennett says the licensing payments were redirected.""
"Mr. Bennett is a lawyer. Lawyers make money by turning ordinary problems into expensive disputes.""
"Did you sign the transfer papers?""
Vanessa's jaw tightened.
"Of course I signed documents. Someone had to clean up the mess your father left.""
"And why was Maya listed as a witness?""
Maya stood abruptly.
"I didn't know what it was!""
Vanessa spun toward her.
"Sit down.""
"No!"" Maya's voice shook.
"I'm tired of being told to shut up.""
Vanessa's expression turned dangerous.
"Be very careful.""
Maya looked at me, tears gathering in her eyes.
"Mom said the papers were about closing the business. She told me the company owed money, and we needed to protect the house.""
"Did you read them?"" I asked.
"No. She told me where to sign.""
Vanessa slapped her palm against the table.
"You were an adult. You knew what you were doing.""
Maya flinched.
"You said Dad wanted us to do it!""
"I said what was necessary to get it done.""
The room went silent.
Vanessa seemed to realize what she had admitted. She straightened her burgundy blouse and looked at me.
"You're twisting my words.""
I reached into my bag and removed the copy of the transfer agreement.
"This document was signed three weeks after Dad died. If the business was already collapsing, why were its most valuable design licenses transferred to a company connected to Marcus Reed?""
Vanessa glanced at the page.
Then she smiled.
"Because Marcus bought them.""
"At what price?""
"That's none of your business.""
"Apparently, it is. The licensing rights were protected by a trust established for me.""
Her smile vanished.
"Your father was a sentimental man. He made all sorts of ridiculous arrangements when he became ill.""
"He made legal agreements.""
"Agreements can be challenged.""
"Then let the lawyers challenge them.""
For the first time, Vanessa seemed unable to find an immediate answer.
I picked up my bag.
"I'll be taking my father's sketchbooks and personal photographs. Mr. Bennett will contact you about the remaining records.""
Vanessa moved in front of the hallway.
"You aren't taking anything from this house.""
"I'm not asking your permission.""
She reached for my bag.
I stepped back.
"Don't touch me.""
Something in my voice stopped her.
I had never spoken to Vanessa that way before. Not once in twelve years.
She looked at me as if she were seeing a stranger.
"You ungrateful little girl," she hissed.
"I fed you. I clothed you. I let you live here when you had nothing.""
"You were my father's wife. You were supposed to help me, not steal from me.""
"I owe you nothing.""
"Then you shouldn't be afraid of an investigation.""
Her hand dropped.
I walked past her and climbed the stairs to my bedroom.
The room looked different without my original gown hanging beside the mirror. Vanessa had removed the sewing supplies from the dresser and stacked them in a plastic container.
I gathered my remaining clothes, my sewing machine, and the few personal items that belonged to me.
As I reached for the framed photograph of my father, I noticed a small envelope tucked behind it.
My name was written across the front.
The handwriting wasn't my father's.
It was Maya's.
I opened it.
Inside was a folded sheet of paper.
Nia,
I know you hate me. You have every reason to.
But there's something Mom doesn't know I kept.
The night Dad died, I heard her talking to Marcus in the study. They were arguing about a blue ledger and a second set of company records.
Mom said the originals had to disappear before the trust administrator saw them.
Marcus told her the copies weren't enough.
I was afraid to tell anyone. I thought if I stayed quiet, Mom would eventually stop being angry with everyone.
I was wrong.
The ledger is still here.
My fingers tightened around the paper.
I hurried downstairs.
Maya was standing near the kitchen doorway, her eyes red.
"You left this for me?""
She nodded.
"Where's the ledger?""
She looked toward the staircase.
"In Dad's old sewing room.""
My heart skipped.
"The sewing room was emptied months ago.""
"Not all of it.""
She swallowed.
"Mom never checked the bottom drawer of his cutting table. There's a false panel under the lining.""
I stared at her.
"Why are you telling me now?""
Maya wiped her face.
"Because I saw you onstage last night. Everyone was applauding you, and I realized something.""
"What?""
"You made that dress from garbage. Mom took your best work, and you still made something beautiful.""
She looked down at her hands.
"I had the real dress, Nia. I had everything handed to me. And I was still so jealous of you that I stole the one thing you had made for yourself.""
I didn't know what to say.
"I can't undo that," she continued.
"But I can stop lying.""
I studied her face, searching for the familiar signs of manipulation.
For once, she wasn't looking at me with entitlement.
She looked ashamed.
"Where is the sewing room key?"" I asked.
Maya reached into her pocket and handed me a small brass key.
"Mom thinks she threw it away.""
I closed my fingers around it.
Then a voice came from the doorway.
"Give me that.""
Vanessa stood behind us.
Her eyes were fixed on the key.
Maya stepped backward.
"Mom—"
"Give it to me!""
Vanessa lunged toward her daughter.
Maya stumbled, striking the kitchen counter with her hip. The key slipped from her fingers and hit the tiled floor.
I reached for it.
Vanessa grabbed my wrist.
"Stay out of that room!""
I stared at her hand around my arm.
Then I looked up.
"Why?""
She released me as if my skin had burned her.
For a moment, neither of us moved.
Then Vanessa's voice dropped to a whisper.
"Because some things are better left buried.""
May you like
I picked up the key.
And as I walked toward the sewing room, I understood that whatever my father had hidden, Vanessa was more afraid of it than she was of losing the house.
