Chapter 4 - The Sketchbook in Rebecca’s Garage
Chloe backed out of meeting me twice.
The first time, she said Rebecca had taken her car keys.
The second, she said Madison was following her.
On Monday morning, she finally walked into the coffee shop where Hannah’s counselor had agreed to sit with us as a neutral adult.
Chloe looked nothing like the smug girl from my parents’ living room.
No makeup.
Hair pulled back.
Nails bitten raw.
Hannah chose not to attend.
I supported that.
“What do you need to tell me?” I asked.
Chloe stared at her coffee.
“The dress was Madison’s idea.”
I waited.
“But Mom knew.”
“Before or after?”
“Before.”
There it was.
“Did Rebecca tell you to destroy it?”
Chloe’s eyes filled.
“Not exactly.”
I hated those words immediately.
“What exactly did she say?”
“She said Hannah needed a reason not to go to prom.”
“Why?”
Chloe shook her head.
“I’m not supposed to know everything.”
“You’re seventeen, Chloe. Stop talking like you’re five.”
Her face crumpled.
I softened my voice.
“Where is Hannah’s sketchbook?”
That got her.
Chloe looked toward the window.
“Mom’s garage.”
My hands tightened around the coffee cup.
“How did it get there?”
“Madison took it from your house.”
“When?”
“The weekend we stayed over.”
“Why?”
“Mom asked her to.”
I felt something cold settle behind my ribs.
Chloe explained that Rebecca had been photographing Hannah’s drawings for almost a year.
At first, Madison used them for “inspiration.”
Then several became part of school projects.
Then part of her fellowship portfolio.
“How many?”
“I don’t know.”
“Did you help?”
A long pause.
“Yes.”
That mattered.
Chloe wasn’t confessing as an innocent witness.
She had participated.
“Why destroy the dress?”
She started crying.
“Because Mom saw the picture Uncle—”
She stopped herself.
“What picture?”
“The family group chat. When you sent Grandma that picture of Hannah at the boutique.”
I remembered.
Hannah standing in the blue-gray gown.
Behind her, half visible in the mirror, one of her alteration sketches on Celia’s counter.
Rebecca saw it.
And recognized a problem.
Because one of Madison’s fellowship designs contained the same distinctive waist treatment.
The dress wasn’t destroyed because Hannah looked prettier.
Not really.
It was destroyed because Hannah wearing it would create a living connection between her and work already submitted under Madison’s name.
“Why the night before prom?”
Chloe wiped her face.
“Celia Ortiz was supposed to be at prom.”
I looked up.
The boutique sponsored part of the event.
Celia was attending as a community donor.
Rebecca knew.
If Celia saw Hannah wearing modifications that resembled Madison’s fellowship portfolio, questions might begin.
So Rebecca gave her daughters a solution.
May you like
Make sure Hannah doesn’t go.
Teenage jealousy was supposed to explain the rest.
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