Chapter 5 - THE COMPETITION
The Memorial Development Council occupied the top three floors of a glass building overlooking the river.
Rowan entered carrying her original sketchbook, Elara’s letter, and enough anger to overcome every security barrier in the lobby.
Milo followed with a tablet displaying the verified timestamps.
They requested an immediate meeting with Elias Voss.
His assistant refused.
Rowan sat in the reception area and announced she would not leave.
Two hours later, Elias appeared.
He was in his early fifties, tall, severe, and dressed in a charcoal suit without a tie. His expression revealed no surprise when Rowan placed the two designs side by side.
“You understand what this shows,” Rowan said.
“It shows two similar concepts.”
“They are identical.”
“Architectural similarities occur.”
“The measurements match to the millimeter.”
Elias turned to Milo’s tablet.
“And these are?”
“Independent records proving Rowan created her files first,” Milo said.
Elias studied them.
“Leave copies with my office.”
“No,” Rowan replied.
His eyes lifted.
“You published praise for Audrey’s design before the competition closed.”
“The article misrepresented my statement.”
“Then correct it.”
“I will address the matter through proper procedures.”
“The proper procedure should include disqualifying her.”
“It may.”
“May?”
“A claim is not a verdict, Miss Hale.”
Rowan opened Elara’s letter.
“Does the council know the memorial design is connected to evidence from the Bellweather fire?”
For the first time, Elias’s composure shifted.
Only slightly.
But Rowan noticed.
“What evidence?” he asked.
She did not show him the letter.
Instead, she closed the folder.
“You know more than you are saying.”
“So do you.”
Milo touched Rowan’s arm, warning her to be careful.
Elias walked to the window.
“The competition will proceed,” he said. “You should submit your design before the deadline.”
“Why would I submit something that has already been stolen?”
“Because a stolen design and a legally registered design are not the same thing.”
Rowan understood.
If she withdrew, Audrey’s version might become the only official entry.
If she submitted, the timestamps would force a formal comparison.
“You want me to stay in the competition,” Rowan said.
“I want the record to become impossible to alter.”
The phrase echoed her father’s notebook.
Build something they cannot erase.
Before Rowan could question him, the office door opened.
Audrey entered with two assistants and a photographer.
She stopped when she saw Rowan’s sketches.
Then she smiled.
The smile was polished, public, and entirely false.
“Rowan,” Audrey said. “I heard you were making accusations.”
“I heard you were making copies.”
The photographer lowered his camera.
Audrey dismissed her assistants and waited until the door closed.
“You worked in my studio,” she said. “You saw early versions of my concept.”
“My version existed before I met you.”
“Can you prove that in court?”
“Yes.”
Audrey’s smile weakened.
She glanced at Elias.
“You told me this would be handled.”
“I told you every claim would be examined,” he replied.
Audrey stepped closer to Rowan.
“You do not understand what you have entered.”
“A design competition?”
“A family matter.”
Rowan’s hand tightened around Elara’s letter.
Audrey’s gaze fell to the envelope.
Recognition flashed in her eyes.
“You found it,” she whispered.
“Found what?”
Audrey reached for the letter.
Rowan pulled it away.
Elias moved between them.
“Miss Vale, leave.”
Audrey ignored him.
She stared at Rowan with something deeper than anger.
Fear.
“Your sister should have stayed dead,” she said.
Then she walked out.
Elias closed the door behind her.
Rowan turned to him.
“You have ten seconds to tell me what she meant.”
Elias looked at the envelope.
“I cannot.”
“Then I go to the police.”
“You can. But by sunset, that letter will vanish from evidence, your mother will deny everything, and Milo’s servers will experience a series of unfortunate failures.”
Milo frowned. “Is that a threat?”
“It is a description of Conrad Vale’s reach.”
“Why should we trust you?” Rowan asked.
“You should not.”
Elias returned to his desk and wrote an address on a card.
“Go there at eleven tonight. Bring no phones. Tell no one.”
Rowan took the card.
The address belonged to the abandoned Bellweather railway station.
May you like
As she turned to leave, Elias added one final warning.
“If you see a silver bird, do not follow it until it speaks your sister’s name.”
