Her Court Filing Made Us Put The Promises In Order

Delphine wanted the cases returned and $40,000 for damage to the studio.

In her filing, she called the hair my gift to our company.

I read that line three times.

"She signed the schedule," I said.

Nina turned to the next page.

"And we'll give the judge the schedule. For now, nothing has been decided."

A hearing was set for the following week. Until then, I agreed in writing to keep the packets sealed. Delphine agreed not to take new wig deposits while the dispute was pending.

Her lawyer signed that agreement too.

"She's trying to make you run out of time," Ruth said after we left Nina's office.

I knew. The smallest clock in our trade was a knot. A full wig needed thousands of them. There was no machine I could rent to give me those hours back.

Thiago arranged a table in his company's rehearsal workroom near Woodlawn Lake.

I could use it for samples under a simple written agreement. I brought my own tools. His company owned the spare lace and practice hair they let me use.

"This doesn't move our contract," he said.

"I know."

"And I can't promise the producer will stay."

"I know that too."

He pointed to the folding chair.

"But you can sit down and work."

I did.

Nina had put my own fee terms in writing too. I paid $400 at the start, with later bills due after the first rescue payment if the clients agreed. That left enough for my home rent. I wasn't going to build another promise on money I didn't have.

Second Moon's designer joined us by video. She had asked for silver wigs that looked like polished metal.

"The exact old hair matters less than the light," she said. "Can new hair take a cooler shade?"

"I can make a test. I won't promise the color before you see it."

For The Bellkeeper, I tried a copper front with a darker back. Its designer had drawn the wigs for an outdoor scene lit in amber. We tested a small swatch under the actual lamp.

The first test looked orange.

"That's a traffic cone," the designer said.

I laughed for the first time all week.

"I'll try again."

While I worked on samples, Ruth worked on the books she still had permission to read. Her access had remained active even after mine was cut off.

She saved the exports with their dates and asked the bank to confirm the statements through the company's authorized contacts.

She didn't call it a full audit yet. She marked each finding as checked or pending.

The four deposits totaled $32,000.

There had been $12,000 in ordinary studio costs. Rent. Insurance. Wages already paid. Supplies supported by receipts.

There was $6,000 left in the company account.

The other $14,000 had gone to an account shown only as Production Reserve.

Ruth couldn't see who owned it.

"Could that be a supplier?" I asked.

"It could. That's why we ask for the statement."

She requested an invoice and proof of ownership for that account.

Delphine sent a photograph of a handwritten note.

Reserve for future growth.

Ruth wrote, Not supporting evidence.

I liked that sentence so much I put it on a sticky note beside my sample block.

Late that afternoon, Thiago brought me iced water and a printout.

Delphine had emailed his producer again.

Manon removed every usable lot. She is now offering to profit from the crisis she caused.

My stomach tightened.

"I haven't offered a price yet."

"I know."

"Will you answer her?"

"I sent the pickup count and asked her which lot was missing before you arrived. She hasn't replied."

He watched me pull a few strands through the lace.

"Your hands slow down when you read her messages."

"I keep thinking I should defend myself better."

"Finish the sample. Let the receipt defend the pickup."

At home, I opened my old purchase ledger again.

I had kept more than prices. Each page had a photograph of the sealed packet, the case number, and the seller's tag. My bank payment matched the invoice. The date came four months before Lantern Thread Studio was formed.

There was no grand secret hidden between the pages.

There was just the record I had kept when spending $18,600 had frightened me enough to check every line.

I made a copy for court.

The next morning, Ruth called before eight.

"The bank statement came through Delphine's lawyer. The reserve account is in Delphine's personal name."

I stopped brushing my hair.

"Any supplier payments?"

"None in the statement they produced."

Nina called while Ruth was still on the line.

"Bring the sample photos," she said. "Her new sworn statement says no usable substitute could be ready for either show, and you knew that when you took the cases."