Chapter 4: The File That Wasn't There
They gave Dessa twelve minutes.
A production assistant escorted her to the backstage area where the designers' bags and equipment had been stored.
The judges remained at the table.
The audience did not leave.
No one suggested they should.
Nia stood at the side of the stage with Theo.
"Are you all right?" he asked quietly.
"Ask me in an hour," she said.
He nodded and didn't push further.
That was why she trusted him.
Three rows back in the audience, Nia could see Marcus Webb, the director of the Calloway Fashion Prize, the competition they were all standing inside of tonight.
He was a heavyset man in a charcoal suit, and he had not taken his eyes off the judges' table since Carla had first reached for the folder.
His jaw was set in a way that suggested he was already thinking about what this evening was going to cost the institution.
Good, Nia thought.
He should be thinking about that.
Marcus had been the one who had personally invited Dessa to enter the competition after seeing her spring preview.
He had mentioned it in an interview.
He had called her work "the freshest voice in American construction design in a decade." Nia had read that interview sitting in her studio at two in the morning, surrounded by the very sketches that were now sitting on the judges' table.
She had not forgotten it.
Dessa returned to the stage after eleven minutes.
She was carrying her laptop.
Her walk was controlled but her color was wrong — slightly too pale at the jaw, slightly too bright at the eyes.
She set the laptop on the judges' table and turned it to face them.
"My working folder," she said.
"The design file for the gown."
Carla leaned in.
Roland moved his chair closer.
Priya stood.
The folder was open.
The file was there.
Dessa clicked it open and the screen filled with design software — a construction program Nia recognized immediately because she used the same one.
The file name read: ChampagneGown_DSW_Final.
Roland pointed at the screen.
"Can you show us the edit history?"
Dessa clicked through the menu.
A sidebar opened.
It showed a list of save points — the automatic records the software kept every time a file was modified.
The oldest save point was dated nine weeks ago.
Priya looked at the sketches on the table.
At the metadata on Nia's printed file.
At the save history on Dessa's screen.
"Nine weeks," she said.
It wasn't a question.
"I work quickly," Dessa said.
"Nia's file," Roland said carefully, "shows an original creation date of fourteen months ago, with ongoing edits over a nine-month period." He paused.
"Your oldest save point is nine weeks old.
The same week, roughly, that the external drive went missing from Nia's studio."
Dessa's voice was precise and very quiet.
"That is a coincidence."
"Perhaps," Roland said.
He did not say anything else.
He didn't need to.
Carla sat back in her chair.
She was not looking at the laptop anymore.
She was looking at Dessa with the particular expression of someone who has seen a great many things in a long career and has learned to recognize the specific shape of a lie under pressure.
"Ms.
Dessa," she said, "is there anything else you'd like to present to this panel before we continue?"
Dessa's jaw moved.
"I'd like to say that I find this entire process—"
"Evidence," Carla said.
"Not commentary.
Is there any additional evidence you would like to present?"
The word evidence sat in the air between them like something heavy.
Dessa closed the laptop.
"No," she said.
Carla turned back to the panel.
A look passed between the three judges — brief, specific, final.
In the audience, Marcus Webb uncrossed and recrossed his legs.
He pulled out his phone and typed something.
Then he put it away.
Nia watched all of it without moving.
Theo leaned close to her ear.
"Someone just walked in at the back," he murmured.
"In a gray coat.
I think that's the building's legal liaison."
Nia didn't turn around.
"I know," she said.
"She called me yesterday."
Theo went very still beside her.
"You knew she was coming tonight?" he said.
"I asked her to come," Nia said.
"Just in case the evidence wasn't enough on its own."
Theo was quiet for a moment.
Then: "How long have you been planning this?"
May you like
Nia kept her eyes on Carla Voss.
"Since the morning I noticed the drive was gone."
