Chapter 11 - The Contract
The beauty campaign contacted Vanessa again.
This time, they contacted Amara too.
A message arrived through her public school art account.
Hi Amara! We’re excited that your mother confirmed your participation. Attached are styling references for Saturday.
Amara read it twice.
Then opened the attachment.
Campaign schedule.
Location.
Wardrobe.
Red dresses requested.
Vanessa had confirmed.
Amara forwarded everything to herself and Jada.
Then she walked downstairs.
Vanessa was photographing cosmetics near the kitchen window.
“I said no.”
Vanessa barely looked up.
“To what?”
“The campaign.”
“Oh.”
Vanessa repositioned a serum bottle.
“They increased the offer.”
“I don’t care.”
“You might when you hear the number.”
“I said no.”
Vanessa set down the camera.
“Five thousand dollars.”
Amara stopped.
“They doubled it?”
“They think the controversy makes the campaign more relatable.”
Amara stared.
“The controversy?”
“They called it authenticity.”
“They’re paying because people watched you humiliate me.”
“That is not what happened.”
“To them it doesn’t matter.”
Vanessa folded her arms.
“This could replace some of the money.”
Silence.
Amara’s pulse changed.
“What money?”
Vanessa realized what she had said.
“The money prom costs.”
“No.”
“Amara—”
“You said replace some of the money.”
Vanessa looked away.
“How much is missing?”
“Nothing is missing.”
“Then what are you replacing?”
Vanessa picked up her camera.
“This conversation is exhausting.”
Amara stepped between Vanessa and the light.
“Did you spend Grandma’s money on VGlow?”
Vanessa’s face hardened.
“Move.”
“Answer me.”
“Move.”
“No.”
For a few seconds they stared at each other.
Vanessa placed the camera down.
“I borrowed some.”
The word struck harder than Amara expected.
“How much?”
“I intended to repay it.”
“How much?”
“Business was slow.”
“How much?”
“I was building something for our future.”
“Mom.”
Vanessa looked directly at her.
“Twelve thousand.”
Amara’s knees felt weak.
“Twelve?”
“I repaid some.”
“How much?”
Silence.
“How much did you repay?”
“About two thousand.”
“So you took ten thousand dollars.”
“I borrowed it.”
“Without telling me.”
“You were fourteen when the account was established.”
“I’m seventeen now.”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“I understand subtraction.”
Vanessa winced.
Amara continued.
“And the rest?”
“Some was legitimately spent on you.”
“How much is left?”
Vanessa’s eyes became wet.
“Eight hundred and forty-six dollars.”
Amara could not speak.
Eighteen thousand.
Reduced to eight hundred and forty-six.
College books.
Deposits.
Graduation.
Choices.
Evelyn’s promise.
Gone.
Vanessa stepped closer.
“The campaign could start fixing it.”
Amara looked at her in disbelief.
“You want to use me to repay money you took from me.”
“No.”
“That is exactly what you just said.”
“We would both work.”
“I never agreed to work.”
“Five thousand dollars for one afternoon, Amara!”
“I said no!”
The room went silent.
Amara rarely shouted.
Vanessa stared.
Amara lowered her voice.
“You took my money because you wanted people to think your business was successful.”
“That is unfair.”
“You want me in matching red dresses because people liked the post.”
“You are simplifying everything.”
“And now you want to sell the same humiliation back to strangers so you can repay money you stole.”
Vanessa flinched.
“Do not call me a thief.”
“What should I call it?”
Vanessa had no answer.
Amara walked toward the stairs.
Behind her, Vanessa said quietly, “If VGlow fails, we could lose more than you understand.”
Amara turned.
“What does that mean?”
Vanessa looked toward the house around them.
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And this time her fear was not about photographs.
“We could lose this house.”
