One Night in Valeria - Chapter 39: Chapter 39
You are reading One Night in Valeria, Chapter 39: Chapter 39. Read more chapters of One Night in Valeria.
It started with a whisper in her inbox.
The subject line: “Not all of us are asleep.”
Attached was a single file redacted in parts, but unmistakable:
> Internal Memo: Conservatory Ethics Committee
Re: Discretionary Blacklisting Procedures for Uncooperative Designers
Keywords flagged: “Hale,” “Dorian,” “Lineage,” “Velar interference”
Classified. Internal use only.
Jessica read the document twice, heart pounding.
Whoever sent it had access to the inner machinery.
And whoever they were…
They wanted her to see it.
She forwarded the file to Liam immediately.
His response was fast.
> Encrypted reply:
This is gold. I can match the language to board meeting minutes we pulled from the archives. It confirms systemic blacklisting.
But we need more. Enough to burn the whole house down.
Over the next five days, the leaks kept coming.
Scans of board transcripts. Private messages between August and Thorne. Fabric acquisition logs showing how Lineage materials were funneled into A.D. Atelier before Klara’s disappearance.
The emails always came from the same address:
threadbaretruth@shadowmail
No name. No signature.
But each file was a blade aimed precisely at the neck of the Conservatory.
Meanwhile, the Unwritten Summit was becoming a revolution.
Jessica, with Celeste and Liam’s help, had handpicked thirty designers from across the globe raw talents with explosive visions. Some had been rejected from major houses for being “too bold.” Others had walked away from fame in protest.
Now, they had a place. A voice. A runway.
Jessica walked through the converted glass factory where the summit would take place bare bones for now, but it pulsed with promise. High ceilings, open light, the scent of paint and fabric in the air.
“This is it,” she whispered. “The future.”
Liam stepped beside her. “Built from what they tried to erase.”
She turned to him, eyes softening. “You’ve been quiet today.”
He hesitated, then pulled out his phone.
“I traced the anonymous email address. Not to a person but to a building.”
She tensed. “Where?”
“The Conservatory itself.”
Jessica’s breath caught. “Someone on the inside?”
“Someone important enough to risk everything,” Liam said. “But we need to find out who and why.”
That night, another email arrived.
> You’re closer than you think. Be careful who you trust.
— T.T.
Jessica stared at the signature.
“‘T.T.’…”
She whispered it aloud.
And froze.
“Klara had a friend once,” she said slowly. “A researcher. Tatienne Tavares. She disappeared after my mother vanished. No one ever found her.”
Liam’s eyes widened. “You think she’s the leak?”
“I think…” Jessica said, heart pounding, “someone is finally ready to finish what Klara started.
The subject line: “Not all of us are asleep.”
Attached was a single file redacted in parts, but unmistakable:
> Internal Memo: Conservatory Ethics Committee
Re: Discretionary Blacklisting Procedures for Uncooperative Designers
Keywords flagged: “Hale,” “Dorian,” “Lineage,” “Velar interference”
Classified. Internal use only.
Jessica read the document twice, heart pounding.
Whoever sent it had access to the inner machinery.
And whoever they were…
They wanted her to see it.
She forwarded the file to Liam immediately.
His response was fast.
> Encrypted reply:
This is gold. I can match the language to board meeting minutes we pulled from the archives. It confirms systemic blacklisting.
But we need more. Enough to burn the whole house down.
Over the next five days, the leaks kept coming.
Scans of board transcripts. Private messages between August and Thorne. Fabric acquisition logs showing how Lineage materials were funneled into A.D. Atelier before Klara’s disappearance.
The emails always came from the same address:
threadbaretruth@shadowmail
No name. No signature.
But each file was a blade aimed precisely at the neck of the Conservatory.
Meanwhile, the Unwritten Summit was becoming a revolution.
Jessica, with Celeste and Liam’s help, had handpicked thirty designers from across the globe raw talents with explosive visions. Some had been rejected from major houses for being “too bold.” Others had walked away from fame in protest.
Now, they had a place. A voice. A runway.
Jessica walked through the converted glass factory where the summit would take place bare bones for now, but it pulsed with promise. High ceilings, open light, the scent of paint and fabric in the air.
“This is it,” she whispered. “The future.”
Liam stepped beside her. “Built from what they tried to erase.”
She turned to him, eyes softening. “You’ve been quiet today.”
He hesitated, then pulled out his phone.
“I traced the anonymous email address. Not to a person but to a building.”
She tensed. “Where?”
“The Conservatory itself.”
Jessica’s breath caught. “Someone on the inside?”
“Someone important enough to risk everything,” Liam said. “But we need to find out who and why.”
That night, another email arrived.
> You’re closer than you think. Be careful who you trust.
— T.T.
Jessica stared at the signature.
“‘T.T.’…”
She whispered it aloud.
And froze.
“Klara had a friend once,” she said slowly. “A researcher. Tatienne Tavares. She disappeared after my mother vanished. No one ever found her.”
Liam’s eyes widened. “You think she’s the leak?”
“I think…” Jessica said, heart pounding, “someone is finally ready to finish what Klara started.
End of One Night in Valeria Chapter 39. Continue reading Chapter 40 or return to One Night in Valeria book page.