The Design She Left Out

Chapter 2 The Two-Step Trap

Mia's "bunker" had started life as a basement recording studio during her brief attempt at forming a rock band. It had no windows, one steel door and walls built to block signals.

The old microphones were gone, but acoustic panels still covered the walls. A battered safe stood where the amplifiers used to be, and the ventilation fan supplied the only steady sound.

She pulled me into a hug as soon as I arrived. "I saw the alert. Fire at the Hale showroom. Please tell me we're suing Derrick for everything he has."

The worn leather couch caught me when my legs gave out. "I need proof first. Right now, they can call me a bitter ex-fiancée who destroyed company property."

Once the shaking in my hands eased, I told her how often Chloe had copied work that existed only in unfinished sketches. Mia stopped pacing long enough to listen.

Mia paced in front of me, red hair coming loose from its clip.

"One of the junior assistants says Chloe's had headaches for weeks. She keeps pressing her temples and complaining about static in her head. I hope it gets louder."

"Static?"

"Her word. Why?"

I took a clean sketchpad and charcoal pencils from my bag. "Sweep the room. I want every active device out, including yours."

Mia used a small detector on the walls, table, couch and air vent. It stayed silent. She left her phone outside the steel door.

She checked the old recording console, removed its batteries and opened the cabinet beneath it. We even unplugged the clock. When the detector remained quiet, she locked the door from inside.

"Dead zone," she said. "What are you testing?"

"Whether Chloe needs access to my work."

On a fresh page, I drew a gothic motorcycle jacket. I gave it an asymmetrical zipper and quilted leather shoulder panels. Across the back, a skeletal raven spread wings embroidered in silver thread.

I worked through the construction instead of drawing a loose concept. The zipper placement, each quilted panel and the proportions of the raven all went onto the page. A copy would be recognizable at once.

No one could arrive at that exact jacket by accident.

Charcoal covered my fingers by the time I finished. I folded the page before Mia could study it, spun the dial on the heavy safe in the corner and locked it inside.

Mia saw the fold of the paper and nothing more. I tugged the safe handle twice, then put the charcoal and sketchpad on the other side of the room.

"No one opens that until I say so."

Mia ordered expensive takeout and tried to distract me. Neither of us touched much of it.

She filled the five hours with gossip from the junior design staff. I kept looking at the safe, then at the steel door. No one entered. No device came back into the room.

Five hours later, she opened the steel door to check her phone. A notification was waiting from Hale Group's official i********: account.

She brought the screen to me without a word.

The polished digital render showed a gothic motorcycle jacket with an asymmetrical zipper, quilted shoulders and a silver skeletal raven across the back. The wings matched mine down to the last feather.

It was presented as a finished concept, cleaned up and ready for production. The digital artist had even kept the uneven spacing I had used between two of the silver feathers.

The caption read:

*“A flash of midnight inspiration from our brilliant new chief designer, Chloe Lane. The future of fashion is here.”*

Mia looked from the screen to the locked safe. "That is impossible. Serena, this is witchcraft."

I checked the post time. The drawing had never left the bunker, and Mia had not even seen the whole page.

The safe was still locked. I opened it only after taking screenshots of the post and its timestamp. My charcoal drawing lay exactly where I had put it.

The first part of my test was done. Chloe did not need the studio, a camera or a spy.

I handed the phone back. "Now we find out whether she can steal something that doesn't exist."