Chapter 3: The Girl They Never Bothered to See
On the fourth day before the competition, Nia woke to the sound of someone screaming.
For one terrifying second, she thought her new dress had been discovered.
Then she heard Brianna's voice coming from downstairs.
“Mom! You have to do something!””
Nia hurried into the hallway.
Brianna stood beside the living room mirror, holding the stolen gown against her body.
Vanessa paced around her.
“What do you mean it doesn't fit?””
“The waist is wrong! And the train keeps pulling to one side!””
“You said Nia made it.””
“She did!””
“Then tell her to fix it.””
Nia stopped at the top of the stairs.
Brianna looked up and spotted her.
“There you are.””
Nia didn't move.
“I need you to alter the dress.””
“No.””
Brianna threw up her hands.
“Are you going to keep acting like a child forever?””
“You stole my competition entry.””
“I borrowed it.””
“Without asking.””
“You're still talking about that?””
Vanessa turned toward the staircase.
“Get down here.””
Nia descended slowly.
She had spent most of the night working on her new gown, and her fingers were sore from sewing.
She was exhausted, but she refused to let either woman see how frightened she was.
The new design was taking shape.
The bodice was complete, and the first layers of the skirt had been attached.
But the centerpiece still needed work.
She had less than four days to finish it, prepare her portfolio, and transport the garment to the competition venue.
She couldn't afford to waste another minute repairing Brianna's stolen dress.
Vanessa pointed at the gown.
“Your sister has an event tomorrow evening. She needs this fixed.””
“Then she can take it to a tailor.””
“A tailor will charge hundreds of dollars.””
“That's not my problem.””
Brianna stared at her as though she had spoken another language.
“You'd rather let me look terrible than help me?””
Nia looked at the gown.
The crystal bodice.
The hand-embroidered butterflies.
The blue patterns that had begun with a spill of paint.
She remembered every late night and every ruined needle.
Then she looked at Brianna.
“You don't want my help. You want my work.””
Brianna's cheeks flushed.
“Mom, are you hearing this?””
Vanessa's expression turned cold.
“If you refuse to help your sister, don't expect me to keep supporting your little sewing obsession.””
Nia's stomach tightened.
“What does that mean?””
“It means that if I find you wasting another night on that machine, I'll have it removed.””
For a moment, Nia felt the familiar fear rising inside her.
Her sewing machine was old, but it was hers.
She had saved for months to buy it.
Without it, she would lose the ability to finish her competition entry.
Vanessa knew that.
She was counting on it.
Nia glanced toward the hallway where the machine was hidden behind her bedroom door.
Then she looked back at her stepmother.
“You can take the machine,” she said.
Vanessa blinked.
“What?””
“You can take it. But I'm not fixing the dress.””
Brianna let out a disbelieving laugh.
“Who do you think you are?””
Nia met her eyes.
“Someone who made something you couldn't.””
The words hung in the air.
For the first time, Brianna had no immediate answer.
Vanessa grabbed the gown from her daughter's hands.
“Fine. If you're determined to behave this way, don't come asking me for anything.””
Nia turned and walked upstairs.
She could hear Brianna complaining behind her.
She could hear Vanessa promising to handle everything.
But neither woman followed.
When Nia closed her bedroom door, her knees nearly gave way.
She had challenged Vanessa directly.
She had refused Brianna.
And now she had no idea whether her sewing machine would still be there by the end of the day.
She crossed the room and checked the unfinished gown.
The bodice was intact.
The fabric was safe.
The centerpiece lay in a small box beside the machine.
Nia touched the delicate petals.
She could not let fear destroy what she had started.
She sat down and resumed sewing.
At school, Maya noticed the dark circles beneath her eyes.
“You haven't slept.””
“I slept.””
“For how long?””
Nia hesitated.
“An hour.””
Maya stared at her.
“Nia!””
“I have a lot to do.””
“You also have a brain that needs to function.””
Nia tried to smile.
Maya pulled a chair beside her.
“Show me what you've finished.””
Nia unwrapped the gown.
Maya's mouth fell open.
“Oh, wow.””
The dress was still incomplete, but its shape had become unmistakable.
White silk formed the foundation.
Translucent layers curved around the skirt in sweeping arcs, revealing flashes of sapphire blue underneath.
The bodice was structured and elegant, with a delicate arrangement of fabric petals rising from one shoulder.
Each petal had been cut and shaped by hand.
When Nia lifted the dress, the layers shifted like wings catching a breeze.
Maya circled the table.
“This is incredible.””
“It still needs the centerpiece.””
“You mean the butterfly?””
Nia nodded.
Maya studied the design.
“What if you don't make it from individual petals?””
Nia frowned.
“That's the whole point.””
“What if the petals are connected by a hidden base, so they move together?””
Nia stopped.
She looked at the drawing.
Then at the fabric.
Then back at the drawing.
A hidden base would reduce the weight and help the centerpiece hold its shape.
It would also save hours of sewing.
“That's brilliant,” Nia whispered.
Maya grinned.
“I know.””
They spent the next hour testing the idea with scraps of fabric.
The first attempt was too stiff.
The second collapsed.
The third finally worked.
The petals opened when Nia lifted the dress and folded gently inward when she lowered it.
For a moment, both girls simply stared.
The centerpiece looked alive.
Nia felt something loosen in her chest.
She had been so focused on defending what she had already made that she had forgotten what made her a designer in the first place.
She didn't merely follow instructions.
She solved problems.
She turned accidents into ideas.
And she could build something beautiful from materials other people overlooked.
By the end of the school day, Nia had a working prototype.
There was still an enormous amount to finish, but the impossible suddenly seemed manageable.
Then Maya checked her phone.
Her smile disappeared.
“What?”” Nia asked.
Maya turned the screen toward her.
Brianna had uploaded another photograph.
This time, she was wearing the stolen gown.
The caption read: Hard work pays off. Can't wait to show everyone what I've been creating.
Nia stared at the words.
Brianna wasn't merely wearing the dress.
She was claiming the work.
And the comments were already filling with praise.
Someone had written that Brianna should consider a career in fashion.
Another person had asked whether she had designed the gown herself.
Brianna had replied with a single sentence.
I've always had an eye for beautiful things.
Nia's hands curled into fists.
Maya looked furious.
“She can't get away with this.””
“I'm not going to fight her online.””
“Then what are you going to do?””
Nia studied the photograph.
Brianna was posing beneath a chandelier, the gown's train arranged carefully around her feet.
She looked confident.
Untouchable.
Certain that the world would believe whatever story she chose to tell.
Nia took a screenshot and saved it.
“I'm going to finish my dress.””
Maya searched her face.
“And then?””
“Then I'm going to the competition.””
“What if Brianna shows up wearing yours?””
Nia looked down at the unfinished gown beside her.
For weeks, she had imagined standing before the judges, explaining the inspiration behind her design.
She had pictured the scholarship.
The internship.
New York.
She had never imagined having to defend her own work against someone who shared her home.
But she was beginning to understand that the competition was about more than winning.
It was about refusing to disappear.
“Let her wear it,” Nia said.
Maya frowned.
“You're serious?””
“The dress she stole is beautiful. She can keep telling people whatever she wants about it.””
“And your new design?””
Nia looked at the butterfly centerpiece.
A slow smile spread across her face.
“My new design will speak for itself.””
That evening, she returned home to find her bedroom door open.
Her sewing machine sat on the hallway floor.
Vanessa stood beside it with her arms crossed.
“I warned you,” she said.
Nia's heart dropped.
“You can't take that.””
“I can do whatever I want with things in my house.””
“It's mine. I paid for it.””
“With money earned while living under my roof.””
Vanessa gestured toward the machine.
“You can have it back when you learn to respect this family.””
Nia stared at the machine.
Without it, finishing the gown would be nearly impossible.
She looked at Vanessa, searching for even a trace of hesitation.
There was none.
Then a voice came from the living room.
“Vanessa, what exactly are you doing?””
Both women turned.
An unfamiliar man stood near the front door, holding a leather portfolio and a business card.
Vanessa's expression changed instantly.
“Oh! You must be here for Brianna.””
The man glanced at the sewing machine on the floor.
Then he looked at Nia.
“Actually,” he said, “I'm here to speak with the young designer who submitted the preliminary portfolio for the Young American Couture Competition.””
Nia froze.
She had submitted her preliminary portfolio weeks earlier, before the dress was stolen.
Vanessa straightened her blouse.
“Of course. Brianna has been working on something wonderful.””
The man looked confused.
“Brianna?””
He checked the name on his paperwork.
Then he looked directly at Nia.
“Nia Carter?””
“Yes.””
He extended his hand.
“I'm Daniel Brooks, one of the competition's preliminary reviewers. I was hoping to see the garment you described in your application.””
Vanessa's smile faltered.
Brianna appeared at the top of the stairs.
For the first time all week, she looked genuinely frightened.
Because the man wasn't asking about the gown she had stolen.
May you like
He was asking to see the work Nia had created herself.
And Nia's unfinished masterpiece was still hidden inside her bedroom.
