Chapter 6 - THE CHARITY THAT NEVER DELIVERED
“They didn't buy three million dollars of clothes for you, sweetheart.”
Vincent spoke gently, but his face had gone pale.
Grace stood beside the dining table, holding her mother's silver thimble.
“Then why is my name there?”
Vincent glanced at Daniel.
Neither man answered immediately.
I knew that silence.
It was the silence adults used when they weren't sure how much truth a child could bear.
I put down my measuring tape.
“Grace, sometimes people put someone's name on paperwork without asking. That's wrong, but it doesn't make that person responsible.”
She looked at me.
“Like Celeste did with the video?”
“Yes.”
Vincent nodded.
“Exactly like that.”
Grace stared at the papers.
“Then I want my name taken off.”
Vincent reached for her hand.
“We're going to correct it.”
She looked up at him.
“Please don't just say that, Daddy.”
The words landed heavily.
Vincent stopped.
“I won't.”
He gathered the reports and turned them facedown.
Then he asked Daniel to arrange an independent review of every foundation payment connected to the fashion show.
But an hour later, another problem emerged.
The foundation board had accepted Peter's emergency motion for consideration.
Vincent would have to explain the missing charitable funds before he could regain control of the accounts.
And Peter had already circulated a carefully worded statement.
It described Vincent as a distracted father whose personal decisions had endangered a vulnerable teenager.
I watched Vincent read it.
He didn't shout.
He simply sat down.
For the first time, I saw how much damage one trusted person could cause without raising a hand.
“It's clever,” Vincent said.
Daniel looked at him.
“What is?”
“Peter knows I won't publicly discuss Grace's private medical treatment. He's counting on my silence.”
I thought of the cameras.
The altered dress.
The forged measurements.
Every piece of the plan had been designed to make someone else look guilty.
Then Grace appeared with a folded blue jacket.
“Ms. Mitchell?”
I turned.
She held the unfinished garment from her mother's sewing case.
“Can we fix this first?”
I examined it.
The stitches were uneven, and one sleeve had never been attached.
“What would you like me to do?”
“Finish it.”
I smiled.
“For you?”
She shook her head.
“For my dad.”
Vincent looked surprised.
Grace pointed toward the inside lining.
“Mom wrote something there.”
I turned the fabric over.
In faded blue ink, Anna had written:
Good clothes should make room for the person inside.
Vincent took the jacket carefully.
He ran his thumb over the words.
“She used to say that all the time.”
Grace looked at him.
“Then why did Celeste want me to hide?”
Vincent closed his eyes.
“Because I made a mistake about who I trusted.”
Grace considered that answer.
Then she asked, “Are you still marrying her?”
“No.”
It was the first time he'd said it aloud.
Grace's shoulders relaxed.
I understood then that she hadn't been waiting for revenge.
She'd been waiting to feel safe in her own home.
An hour later, Celeste arrived.
She wasn't wearing makeup.
Her expensive cream coat was wrinkled, and her eyes were red.
Vincent met her in the drawing room.
I was there because she'd requested to speak with me too.
“Lauren,” Celeste began, “I owe you an apology.”
I said nothing.
“I blamed you for the dress. I shouldn't have.”
“No,” I answered. “You shouldn't have.”
She looked at Vincent.
“Peter told me the foundation had approved the clothing project.”
“Did you know he was charging the charity?”
“Yes.”
Vincent's expression changed.
Celeste swallowed.
“My business was failing. The adaptive line was supposed to save it.”
“So you used Anna's foundation?”
“I thought we'd actually produce the garments. Peter said the documentary would attract enough investment to finish the orders.”
I stared at her.
“You had a contract to deliver those clothes.”
“I know.”
“And instead you spent money on a fashion show?”
Tears filled her eyes.
“I kept telling myself I'd fix everything before anyone noticed.”
Vincent leaned forward.
“Did you know about the bedroom camera?”
“No.”
“Did you know Grace had been recorded privately?”
Celeste looked away.
“I knew Peter had obtained personal footage.”
My chest tightened.
“Did you ask how?”
“No.”
“Did you send that video to Grace's friends?”
She nodded.
“I thought their reaction would make her feel supported.”
“You didn't ask Grace what she wanted,” Vincent said.
Celeste began crying.
“I know.”
For a moment, she looked less like a villain and more like a woman who had allowed ambition to become an excuse for cruelty.
But then Vincent asked one final question.
“Where is the $850,000 licensing payment?”
Celeste wiped her face.
“Peter said it would replenish the charity account.”
“Has it?”
She shook her head.
“Not yet.”
“Why?”
“Because the streaming company hasn't paid.”
Vincent frowned.
“The contract says the money was transferred yesterday.”
Celeste looked genuinely shocked.
“That can't be right.”
Daniel entered with a banking verification report.
“The transfer was completed,” he said.
“Where did it go?” Vincent asked.
Daniel placed the report on the table.
The recipient was a holding company called Northline Holdings.
Registered under a name nobody expected.
ANNA BELL DONOVAN — ESTATE BENEFICIARY ACCOUNT.
Vincent rose so abruptly that his chair scraped the floor.
“Anna has been dead for six years.”
May you like
Daniel nodded.
“And someone is still using her identity to receive money.”
