Chapter 8: The Truth She Was Hiding
I found Mia behind the school gym.
She was sitting alone on the concrete steps, staring at the ground.
For once, she didn’t look confident.
She looked tired.
Like she had been carrying something heavy for a long time.
When she saw me, she immediately stood.
“If you’re here to yell, just do it.””
I stopped a few feet away.
“I want answers.””
She looked away.
“About what?””
I held up my phone.
“The message.””
Her expression changed.
She knew.
“Mia.””
She sighed.
“Who sent it?””
“I don’t know.””
She sat back down.
“Of course.””
“What does that mean?””
She rubbed her hands together.
“It means someone else knows.””
My stomach tightened.
“Knows what?””
Mia was silent.
Then she said:
“The dress wasn’t the problem.””
I frowned.
“What?””
She looked at me.
“The dress was proof.””
“Proof of what?””
She swallowed.
“That you were chosen.””
I stared at her.
“That makes no sense.””
“It does to me.””
She looked away.
“Last year, when you won the scholarship, everyone said you deserved it. When you got accepted into college, everyone celebrated. When you designed that dress…”
Her voice became bitter.
“Everyone looked at you like you were special.””
I crossed my arms.
“So you destroyed my dress because people were proud of me?””
“No.””
She shook her head.
“It was because of Dad.””
I froze.
“What about Dad?””
Mia looked uncomfortable.
“Before the showcase, he told someone something.””
“What?””
She hesitated.
“He said you reminded him of your mother.””
The words hit me unexpectedly.
My mother.
A person I barely remembered because she died when I was young.
“What does that have to do with anything?””
Mia looked at me.
“Everything.””
She stood.
“You don’t know what it was like after your mom died.””
I stayed quiet.
Because I didn’t.
“Mia…”
“No, you don’t.””
Her eyes filled with frustration.
“Dad looked at you and saw her. Every achievement. Every little thing you did. It reminded him of your mom.””
“That’s not my fault.””
“I know.””
Her voice softened.
“That’s the worst part.””
For the first time, I saw something different in Mia.
Not cruelty.
Pain.
But pain didn’t excuse what she did.
“You could have told me.””
She laughed quietly.
“Would you have understood?””
“Maybe.””
She looked at me.
“Would you have given up the showcase?””
I didn’t answer.
Because I knew.
No.
I wouldn’t.
And Mia knew too.
The silence between us said everything.
Then she reached into her bag.
She pulled out a small envelope.
“What is that?””
She handed it to me.
“I found it after Mom created the account.””
I opened it.
Inside was a printed email.
My eyes scanned the words.
It was from the design committee.
But it wasn’t about me.
It was about Mia.
The committee had discovered similarities between her previous designs and online examples.
They were investigating her.
She had been afraid.
Not because of my dress.
Because my success would expose her.
“She thought destroying your dress would make them stop looking at me,” Mia whispered.
I looked up.
“And you agreed.””
She nodded.
“I was angry.””
Her voice broke.
“I was jealous.””
The honesty surprised me.
For years, Mia had hidden behind insults.
Now she finally admitted the truth.
I folded the paper.
“Who sent me that message?””
Mia looked toward the parking lot.
“I don’t know.””
Then her face changed.
“Wait.””
“What?””
She looked scared.
“Because there’s only one person who knew about the email.””
I felt a chill.
“Who?””
May you like
Mia whispered the name.
And suddenly, everything became even more complicated.
