One Night in Valeria - Chapter 41: Chapter 41

The sun filtered through the tall, cathedral-like windows of the converted glass factory. Every surface gleamed steel, marble, and light. The walls bore no logos, no banners.
Just one phrase stenciled across a sheer white panel above the runway:
“This is not legacy.
This is a beginning.”
It was opening day.
The Unwritten Summit had begun.
Designers from fifteen countries arrived with suitcases of fabric, sketches clutched like talismans. Models rehearsed barefoot on concrete, hair still pinned, eyes rimmed in anxious hope. Celeste moved like a storm through the backstage chaos, shouting orders with a headset crooked over her braid.
Jessica stood at the center of it all, calm despite the storm swirling around her.
She wore slate grey structured, sleeveless, with a deep v-cut back. The fabric shimmered subtly as she moved, like smoke in motion.
Liam approached quietly, his usual sharpness softened with pride.
“They’re all watching you,” he murmured.
“I know,” Jessica said, her voice low. “Let them.”
The show began without speeches.
Only movement.
Design after design swept down the runway—fluid, jagged, bold. Political. Emotional. A ballet of rebellion and beauty. Some pieces honored lost voices. Others screamed in silk.
The crowd didn’t applaud.
They stood.
Backstage, Jessica slipped away for air.
She found a quiet corridor behind the freight lift, cool and silent.
And then—
“Jessica Hale.”
She turned.
An older woman stepped from the shadows. Gracefully dressed, ageless in the way grief hardens people. Her eyes were steel blue, her lips pale.
“I’m sorry to intrude,” the woman said. “But I knew your mother.”
Jessica blinked. “I’m sorry, I—”
“I’m Rhiannon Vale. I was Klara’s roommate at the Conservatory. Her first assistant designer. The last person to see her alive… before she vanished.”
A chill shot through Jessica’s chest.
Rhiannon held out a small envelope yellowed at the edges, sealed with wax.
“She asked me to give this to you. When the world was ready. When you were ready.”
Jessica took it with shaking hands.
Rhiannon’s voice trembled. “There were things even Tatienne didn’t know. Things your mother buried so deeply, not even the truth has uncovered them all.”
Jessica swallowed. “Why now?”
“Because your mother knew this moment would come. And because if you open that letter—you may not like what it reveals.”
Back in the gallery space, Liam watched the audience rising to their feet as the final model returned backstage.
But Jessica wasn’t among them.
He frowned.
Somewhere, in the silence, she was reading a letter.
And everything was about to change.