Chapter 6: The Stitch He Couldn’t Copy
By morning, Conrad’s version of the story was everywhere.
A reporter blocked Avery outside the courthouse.
“Did you take a restaurant job to approach Celeste Harrow?”
“I took it to obtain evidence.”
“So you admit using a false identity?”
“My name was printed on my employee form.”
Another reporter lifted a phone.
“Conrad Vale says your mother sold the archive years ago.”
Thomas stepped beside Avery.
“That is false.”
“Can you prove it?”
Avery looked toward Graham.
He shook his head.
Inside, Conrad’s attorney placed the trademark registration before the judge.
“My client has operated openly,” she said.
“Ms.
Ward appeared one day before a major launch and demanded control.”
Graham stood.
“Because she learned her signature had been copied.”
“The original file is unavailable.”
“Because Mr.
Vale destroyed a printed copy in front of witnesses.”
Conrad’s attorney smiled.
“A wet page in a restaurant proves very little.”
The judge looked over her glasses.
“I will review the digital evidence.
Until then, neither side may sell the disputed collection.”
Conrad leaned toward Avery as they left.
“Your evidence bought you forty-eight hours,” he whispered.
“After that, the lenders will bury Celeste, and she’ll blame you.”
Celeste was waiting in the corridor.
“You told the press I helped steal the designs,” she said.
“I told them you launched work you didn’t verify.”
“My employees are being sent home.”
“Then help me stop Conrad.”
Celeste held out a key card.
“The collection is no longer at the venue.
Conrad moved it to Northcross’s private showroom.”
Naomi frowned.
“How did you get that?”
“I built Northcross before Conrad pushed me off its board.”
Avery did not take the card.
“Why should I trust you?”
“You shouldn’t,” Celeste said.
“But you should trust how badly I want my company back.”
At the showroom, racks stood beneath black covers.
An elderly seamstress stepped from behind a cutting table.
“Celeste?” she said.
“They told us you approved the new labels.”
“I didn’t, Harriet.”
Harriet looked at Avery.
“You have Lillian’s eyes.”
“You knew my mother?”
“I finished her samples when her hands became too weak.”
Avery pulled the black sketchbook from her bag.
Harriet touched its cover with two fingers.
“She said this would find its way back to you.”
Conrad entered with two guards.
“Harriet, step away from them.”
The seamstress did not move.
“You were ordered to destroy the unfinished samples,” Conrad said.
“I was ordered to protect company property.”
“You work for me.”
Harriet picked up the hem of a blue dress.
“No.
I work for the person who made this.”
She turned the fabric inside out.
A line of silver thread curved beneath the seam.
Avery gasped.
“My mother’s rose.”
“She placed one inside every original,” Harriet said.
“She added the month and year beside it.”
Naomi photographed the stitching.
“The dates are six years earlier than Conrad’s company.”
Conrad grabbed for the dress.
Harriet pulled it away.
“Careful,” she said.
“Your fingerprints are already on enough things.”
Celeste uncovered another garment.
The same silver rose gleamed inside its hem.
“There are forty-seven pieces,” Harriet said.
“Every one carries Lillian’s mark.”
Conrad’s phone rang.
He turned away, but Naomi pressed record on hers.
“What do you mean the driver refused?” Conrad hissed.
“Take the archive to the disposal site yourself.”
Avery stepped forward.
“What archive?”
Conrad ended the call.
Harriet’s face drained of color.
“The original paper patterns were stored at Northcross.”
Celeste checked the loading schedule on a wall screen.
“The truck left ten minutes ago,” she said.
Avery grabbed the key card.
Conrad smiled as the showroom doors locked behind them.
May you like
“You can have the dresses,” he said.
“By the time you get outside, Lillian’s originals will be gone.”
