One Night in Valeria - Chapter 57: Chapter 57
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The screen flickered once.
Then settled.
Klara Hale’s face appeared, framed by dim light and silence. Her eyes, those same intense grey ones Jessica had inherited, held none of the glamour that once made headlines. She looked… real.
Worn.
Afraid.
Alive.
Jessica didn’t breathe.
Liam stood still behind her, hand resting gently on the back of her chair.
Klara looked straight into the camera.
> “If you're seeing this, it means one of you found the drive. Or maybe Henrik stopped being a coward.”
“Either way... this is the truth behind Project Veil.”
She paused.
Licked her lips. Her fingers fidgeted in her lap unusual, for the poised woman they remembered.
“I founded it. With Dorian. But it was never supposed to be what it became.”
Jessica leaned closer.
Klara continued, her voice softer now, threaded with regret.
> “It started as a creative collective. Hidden. Private. For artists the Conservatory rejected. Survivors. Queer, nonconforming, unpolished talent. We designed in secret and leaked pieces under different names.”
“It gave them a way in. A voice. Until the money got involved.”
Klara’s jaw tightened.
> “Thorne saw what we were doing. He offered funding. Exposure. And in return... we handed over anonymity. He turned Project Veil into a laundering machine. Buying designs from our artists for pennies, selling them under Conservatory brands for millions.”
“I tried to stop it.”
Her hand trembled now.
> “They told me if I blew the whistle, I’d destroy the young designers I was trying to protect. That I’d ruin Dorian, ruin our name. But the guilt every sleepless night, every staged lie burned through me.”
She swallowed hard.
> “That’s why I made the dress.”
Jessica blinked.
Klara looked up as if she were speaking to her now.
> “I made ‘Daughter’ to speak what I couldn’t say out loud. The lining, the stitching each word, a warning. But I couldn’t wear it. I couldn’t walk into the fire and take you with me.”
Tears stung Jessica’s eyes.
> “They threatened me, Jessica. Not with scandal. With you.”
“They said they’d erase you. Bury your name so deep no one would know you ever existed.”
“So I disappeared first.”
She reached forward, pressing her hand gently to the lens.
> “If you show this… be ready. It won’t just end the Conservatory. It will end everything they built. And maybe you’ll lose people along the way. But you’ll find the right ones too.”
“You already have.”
The screen went black.
The silence after felt heavier than any sound.
Liam didn’t speak.
Jessica stood slowly, her breath shaking. Her chest hurt in a way she hadn’t expected like grief, pride, rage, and something holy all tangled together.
She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand.
“She was trying to protect me. Even when she broke everything else.”
Liam nodded. “And now… it’s yours to finish.”
They held an emergency meeting that night.
Smith, Celeste, Henrik, and three of the designers from their underground show gathered in the studio. Coffee cups scattered across the table. The hard drive sat at the center like a weapon no one wanted to touch.
“You can release the video,” Henrik said quietly. “I’ll verify its authenticity. The files are real. The numbers trace. And the press once it breaks—they’ll come for blood.”
Celeste frowned. “And not just theirs. Jessica’s name is still tied to Hale. She’ll go down with them.”
“I don’t care,” Jessica said. Her voice didn’t shake. “Let them drag me. But not before they choke on the truth.”
Theo tilted his head. “You’re planning to release it all?”
“Yes. Unedited. All of it.”
Henrik blinked. “That’s not survival. That’s war.”
Jessica smiled.
“Then I’ll fight in red.”
Later, alone in the studio, Liam sat on the floor while Jessica packed a media file into an encrypted folder. Her fingers moved quickly, no hesitation now. She had crossed the threshold between silence and fury.
“Are you sure about this?” Liam asked.
She glanced down at him.
“I’m not sure of anything anymore.”
She crouched beside him, rested her forehead against his.
“But I know I’m done carrying their shame.”
He kissed her softly.
No fire this time.
Just faith.
“You’re not alone in this.”
When the file uploaded to the cloud, she hit SEND.
To journalists. To fashion archivists. To independent platforms.
The truth left her hands at 11:48 p.m.
And Velaria would never be the same again.
Then settled.
Klara Hale’s face appeared, framed by dim light and silence. Her eyes, those same intense grey ones Jessica had inherited, held none of the glamour that once made headlines. She looked… real.
Worn.
Afraid.
Alive.
Jessica didn’t breathe.
Liam stood still behind her, hand resting gently on the back of her chair.
Klara looked straight into the camera.
> “If you're seeing this, it means one of you found the drive. Or maybe Henrik stopped being a coward.”
“Either way... this is the truth behind Project Veil.”
She paused.
Licked her lips. Her fingers fidgeted in her lap unusual, for the poised woman they remembered.
“I founded it. With Dorian. But it was never supposed to be what it became.”
Jessica leaned closer.
Klara continued, her voice softer now, threaded with regret.
> “It started as a creative collective. Hidden. Private. For artists the Conservatory rejected. Survivors. Queer, nonconforming, unpolished talent. We designed in secret and leaked pieces under different names.”
“It gave them a way in. A voice. Until the money got involved.”
Klara’s jaw tightened.
> “Thorne saw what we were doing. He offered funding. Exposure. And in return... we handed over anonymity. He turned Project Veil into a laundering machine. Buying designs from our artists for pennies, selling them under Conservatory brands for millions.”
“I tried to stop it.”
Her hand trembled now.
> “They told me if I blew the whistle, I’d destroy the young designers I was trying to protect. That I’d ruin Dorian, ruin our name. But the guilt every sleepless night, every staged lie burned through me.”
She swallowed hard.
> “That’s why I made the dress.”
Jessica blinked.
Klara looked up as if she were speaking to her now.
> “I made ‘Daughter’ to speak what I couldn’t say out loud. The lining, the stitching each word, a warning. But I couldn’t wear it. I couldn’t walk into the fire and take you with me.”
Tears stung Jessica’s eyes.
> “They threatened me, Jessica. Not with scandal. With you.”
“They said they’d erase you. Bury your name so deep no one would know you ever existed.”
“So I disappeared first.”
She reached forward, pressing her hand gently to the lens.
> “If you show this… be ready. It won’t just end the Conservatory. It will end everything they built. And maybe you’ll lose people along the way. But you’ll find the right ones too.”
“You already have.”
The screen went black.
The silence after felt heavier than any sound.
Liam didn’t speak.
Jessica stood slowly, her breath shaking. Her chest hurt in a way she hadn’t expected like grief, pride, rage, and something holy all tangled together.
She wiped her cheek with the back of her hand.
“She was trying to protect me. Even when she broke everything else.”
Liam nodded. “And now… it’s yours to finish.”
They held an emergency meeting that night.
Smith, Celeste, Henrik, and three of the designers from their underground show gathered in the studio. Coffee cups scattered across the table. The hard drive sat at the center like a weapon no one wanted to touch.
“You can release the video,” Henrik said quietly. “I’ll verify its authenticity. The files are real. The numbers trace. And the press once it breaks—they’ll come for blood.”
Celeste frowned. “And not just theirs. Jessica’s name is still tied to Hale. She’ll go down with them.”
“I don’t care,” Jessica said. Her voice didn’t shake. “Let them drag me. But not before they choke on the truth.”
Theo tilted his head. “You’re planning to release it all?”
“Yes. Unedited. All of it.”
Henrik blinked. “That’s not survival. That’s war.”
Jessica smiled.
“Then I’ll fight in red.”
Later, alone in the studio, Liam sat on the floor while Jessica packed a media file into an encrypted folder. Her fingers moved quickly, no hesitation now. She had crossed the threshold between silence and fury.
“Are you sure about this?” Liam asked.
She glanced down at him.
“I’m not sure of anything anymore.”
She crouched beside him, rested her forehead against his.
“But I know I’m done carrying their shame.”
He kissed her softly.
No fire this time.
Just faith.
“You’re not alone in this.”
When the file uploaded to the cloud, she hit SEND.
To journalists. To fashion archivists. To independent platforms.
The truth left her hands at 11:48 p.m.
And Velaria would never be the same again.
End of One Night in Valeria Chapter 57. Continue reading Chapter 58 or return to One Night in Valeria book page.