Chapter 5 - The Secret in the Seams
My mother pulled her coat tighter, looking down at the wooden porch boards with deep embarrassment.
"Gene’s mother is Eleanor Vance," she whispered. "She inspects every thread on every garment she sees. June had to make an impression."
I couldn't help the dry chuckle that rose from my chest, remembering June running her fingers over the hem during our first fitting.
"And what happens when Eleanor Vance looks at the inside lining, Mom?" I asked quietly.
Neither of my parents understood the technical art of dressmaking, but they knew that craftsmen never leave work unsigned.
"What did you do to that dress, Maya?" my father demanded, his voice suddenly losing its arrogant edge.
"Every bespoke bridal gown requires a legal maker's mark and provenance tag sewn into the inner structural boning," I explained.
"It’s not just custom; it’s an industry requirement registered under my business tax ID with the North Carolina Artisan Guild."
If Eleanor Vance truly knew textiles as well as June claimed, she would find that label within five seconds of touching the bodice.
And if she looked closely, she would see my personal hallmark stitched in silver metallic embroidery directly against the ribcage.
"Call June," my father said to my mother, his panic rising like floodwater. "Tell her to look at the seams right now."
"She won't find it easily without knowing where to look," I told them, resting my hand on Troy’s arm.
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"It’s sealed beneath the double-faced bias tape, right where an imported couture garment would hide its counterfeit certificate."
"Tell her to bring the dress back to my shop tomorrow," I said, stepping back inside. "Or let Eleanor Vance inspect her Milanese masterpiece herself."
