Elle a volé ma robe de remise de diplôme devant tout le monde — et j’ai transformé son vol en mon plus grand chef-d’œuvre.

“You know, I almost feel bad for you.””

“Don’t strain yourself.””

Her smile hardened.

“You think you can compete with me wearing something you made in a panic?””

“I don’t think anything about you, Brianna.””

She leaned closer.

“Good, because tonight is my night.””

The coordinator called her name from the runway entrance.

“Brianna Whitmore, you’re up in five minutes.””

Brianna straightened and looked toward the lights.

Then she turned back to me.

“Watch carefully, Nia.””

She lifted the skirt of my stolen gown.

“I’m going to show you what it looks like when a real designer wears your work.””

She walked away.

I watched the pale-gold crystals disappear into the light.

Then Tessa touched my shoulder.

“Let her have her five minutes.””

I looked down at the emerald train.

“She can have them.””

From the runway entrance came the first wave of applause.

The announcer’s voice rang through the speakers.

“Please welcome our featured emerging designer, Brianna Whitmore.””

Le public a applaudi.

Et tandis que Brianna défilait sur le podium vêtue de ma robe volée, j’ai senti la poche cachée contre le bout de mes doigts.

Il contenait les croquis originaux.

Ma signature.

Les dates.

La vérité.

Brianna était sur le point de recevoir les applaudissements les plus nourris de sa vie.

Elle ignorait tout simplement que j’allais la suivre.

Et je n’allais pas laisser le public juger ma robe avant qu’il n’ait vu ce qui la précédait.