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The Collar Told the Truth Novel Cover

The Collar Told the Truth

For years, the protagonist of The Collar Told the Truth believed her mother’s claims of treating her and her brother equally. Every gift and opportunity was mirrored, maintaining an illusion of fairness. However, during a holiday visit, a luxury designer jacket exposes a disturbing reality. While the gift appears new, a close inspection reveals yellowed sweat stains, dandruff, and the stench of stale tobacco. This discovery shatters the facade of maternal love, sparking a tense mystery.
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Chapter 2

I arrived home to an empty house. I dashed into my brother Edmund's room. There was his storm jacket, hanging up with the dust cover still on. I checked for the tell-tale signs the salesperson had shown me.

The label was raised. The fabric was stiff, windproof, and smelled faintly of new clothes.

The price tag was still on it, with the store's security strip stuck to it.

It was the real deal.

It was brand-new and the real deal. It even looked a little different from mine.

I just stood there, my eyebrows scrunched up.

Why?

Why did my brother get the newest model of this expensive jacket, yet I got a used fake?

Did someone trick Mom, but only with one out of two products?

'Could it really just be luck?' I thought to myself.

While I was trying to figure it out, I heard the front door open.

Mom and Edmund were back, laughing and carrying bags of all sizes.

When my brother saw the clothes in my hands, he came over with a grin and gave me a shoulder pat.

"Frank, Mom told me about your jacket.

"Mom works hard for her money. She saved up for a long time to get us the same jackets.

"Yours might have been tried on before, but a wash will make it good as new, right?

"Let's not make a big deal out of it. Don't stress Mom out."

For some reason, Edmund's words made me feel angry, like I was the one being difficult.

Before I could say anything, Mom popped a grape into my mouth.

"Exactly. If it really bothers you that it's dirty, I can get it cleaned for you.

"Don't let this little thing upset you. I'll pay more attention next time, okay?"

Mom looked at me with so much love that I had to take a deep breath.

How could I ever doubt her?

Maybe she just did not know better and ended up with a fake.

"It's fine, Mom. No need to clean it. I'll take care of it."

I swallowed the grape and pushed down my doubts.

Maybe it really was just a fluke.

I wondered until later that night, when Mom asked me to help her clear some space on her phone.

She complained that her phone was so slow, it could not take any more pictures.

I grabbed her phone and tapped on the photo album, ready to clear out some fuzzy pictures of trees and hills.

While swiping through the photographs, I stumbled upon a bunch of selfies of Mom from her trips.

In those hundreds of pictures, Edmund was always there.

There were some places I did not even know when they had visited.

Why did they go on trips without me?

I was about to put the phone down when a message from a group chat popped up.

Without thinking, I tapped on it.

It was just a regular group chat where people shared deals they had found.

I scrolled up and found some voice messages Mom sent three days ago.

"Wow, today is my lucky day! I found a fancy jacket in a recycling bin near some expensive houses!

"It was dirty and smoky, but it looked expensive.

"I'll clean it up, and it'll be perfect for my Frank."

Someone in the group said, "That jacket belonged to an old man, the father of a wealthy coal company owner. They were clearing out his old stuff after he passed away. I didn't even dare to touch it!"

"Stuff from someone who's passed away? Who knows if it's got germs on it? How could you let your son wear it?"

Mom replied, "It's fine! Frank's strong. He can handle it. He's had expired milk before and was totally fine.

"I'll spend the money I'm saving on Frank's jacket on a nice brand for Edmund. He's a junior manager now, so I can't have him looking poor.

"Anyway, Frank's so simple-minded. He believes anything I tell him."

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