Chapter 7 - THE DRESS
The dress became ridiculous.
Students recognized me because of it.
Memes appeared:
AUTHENTIC STITCHING ONLY.
Vivienne Laurent called.
“I hear I’m famous.”
“You are not the victim here.”
“I want to meet the fake dress.”
“Vivienne.”
“I’m serious.”
Two weeks later, she visited campus.
Alyssa nearly refused to attend.
Then changed her mind.
Vivienne inspected her dress backstage before a student-fashion scholarship event.
She turned the sleeve.
Examined the seam.
“Good reproduction.”
Alyssa looked embarrassed.
“My mother paid eleven thousand dollars.”
Vivienne raised both eyebrows.
“For this?”
Alyssa looked devastated.
I started laughing.
I could not help it.
Alyssa glared.
Then she laughed too.
“Apparently everybody in my family gets scammed.”
Vivienne became serious.
“Do you know why yours exists?”
“No.”
“One of my former assistants sold pattern copies years ago.”
“So it is fake.”
“It is unauthorized.”
Vivienne touched the fabric.
“But the seamstress who made it has talent.”
Alyssa frowned.
“What?”
“It’s not original. That does not mean the person sewing it was worthless.”
That sentence landed unexpectedly.
After the event, Alyssa asked if she could donate the dress.
“To what?”
“The theater department?”
I smiled.
“Why?”
“So someone can wear it while pretending to be unbearable.”
“Very mature.”
“I’m working on it.”
Instead, Vivienne suggested auctioning both dresses—mine and Alyssa’s unauthorized reproduction—to fund an ethics scholarship.
I refused to donate mine.
Alyssa looked delighted.
“Sentimental?”
“It has pockets.”
“That’s fair.”
Her dress eventually sold for twenty-six thousand dollars after Vivienne signed the inside:
AUTHENTICITY REQUIRES MORE THAN A LABEL.
Alyssa loved that.
We established the Daniel Reyes Student Integrity Award.
Not with Mercer money.
At first, Lucia refused the idea.
“I don’t want people making my son a saint.”
Good.
Neither did I.
Daniel was nineteen.
Probably annoying sometimes.
Probably procrastinated.
Maybe left laundry on the floor.
Integrity becomes less useful when we turn real people into flawless symbols.
Lucia agreed only if the award honored students who raised legitimate concerns despite institutional pressure.
The first recipient was Nina Patel.
She protested:
“I’m not a student.”
We changed the first year’s recognition.
Then created a student award going forward.
At the ceremony, Lucia attended.
So did Alyssa.
They had not met since Alyssa was eight.
Alyssa approached carefully.
“Mrs. Reyes?”
Lucia looked at her.
“I remember you.”
Alyssa immediately began crying.
“I’m sorry.”
Lucia did not hug her.
Not yet.
“You were a child.”
“I wasn’t a child when I used my family’s money to humiliate someone.”
Lucia glanced toward me.
“She can handle herself.”
“I noticed.”
Then Alyssa handed her something.
The original note.
Lucia frowned.
“I gave you a copy.”
Alyssa shook her head.
“This is a new one.”
Lucia opened it.
One sentence.
I’m sorry my family taught me that having more made me worth more.
Lucia read it.
Then looked at Alyssa.
“Don’t spend your life apologizing for being born into money.”
Alyssa swallowed.
“What should I do?”
“Learn what it’s for.”
That was more generous than Alyssa deserved.
May you like
Maybe that was why it mattered.
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