Bertha had a luxurious penthouse where she did her fashion designs. Her family had a big name in the world of fashion, and Bertha had decided to follow in her parents' footsteps, but not quite in the way they would've expected.
Her parents, Roland and Hannah Drew, were super models in the industry. They had become celebrities based off nothing but their looks and perfection, and of course, had tried to drag Bertha into it.
Bertha, although she was stunningly beautiful, didn't like the level of conceit that came with being in that kind of spotlight. Growing up, her parents literally cared more about their bodies than their daughter.
At least that's what it seemed like when they left her past closing hours at school because of some runway show.
Quite surprisingly, Bertha took pride in her designs, which she showed prowess at such a young age.
Now, she easily got by with her collaborations with big brands in the runway business, and that was more than enough for her, even though she wasn't quite immersed in the spotlight.
"At least now you can finally help me with my designs." Bertha said over the steady hum of the electric sewing machine.
"I'd always told you that you have an eye for detail. You were born for this."
Zara sighed. Personally, she didn't see how she fit into Bertha's world. Her mind was too logical to accept the creativity that came with fashion designing.
That was probably why she was an asset at her father's company, being the head of the accounts department.
But Bertha had always insisted that she was a natural, just because of the one time she pointed out a flaw in her designs.
"I'll think about it Bertha. But my mind isn't on any of that right now. I can't believe I lost everything just like that, in the blink of an eye."
"Well, you can file a lawsuit.", Bertha responded.
"A lawsuit? What am I suing them for? Being horrible parents?"
"You seem to forget that you have an inheritance that they may have just cheated you out of."
"Yes, I know, but a lawsuit against them won't work. My father officially renounced me."
Zara choked at those words.
"I don't think there's much I can do about it."
"I know, but hear me out. Your dad and mom owned the business together. It was a joint partnership."
Bertha paused, allowing Zara to follow.
"Which means, that they willed their business to you together, when Emily was still alive. Do you see? Your father can't just renounce you as his heiress and change the will alone. The will was created and signed with Emily. It can't be undone without her."
"So you're saying…"
"That's our angle, but it would be as a last resort."
"So what would be the first?"
"We'll have to prove that the certificate is fake."
"Prove to who?"
"To your family, obviously."
Zara stood up with haste.
"You do know that it was them who framed me in the first place, at least the step side of the family."
Zara ran her fingers through her hair, pacing around the small room.
"And now, you want me to go prove to them that I'm innocent?"
"Not all of them. Maybe your father."
Bertha replied.
"Think about it, Zara. If you can prove to him that you were framed, he'll see that he was mistaken and get you back to your place in your family. He wouldn't be blindsided like the rest of them."
Zara paused, taking in her words. Bertha had really thought this through properly. She was a master tactician when she needed to be.
"What if any of this doesn't work?"
"We could always get some ice cream and restrategise"
Bertha said as she stepped up from her sewing spot and brought out two packs of ice cream from the fridge. It was also strawberry flavoured, Zara's favourite.
"Thanks bestie."
"I was wondering if you could come with me to a modelling function tonight."
A modeling function sounded just like the perfect escape from all the shenanigans of the previous days.
Zara didn't need Bertha to ask twice.
"Cool. But I'm borrowing your clothes."