My sister slammed her glass down when she discovered I was worth $15 million, screaming, “You have fifteen million dollars and never told us?!” My mother demanded her share—but then my father revealed where their retirement savings had REALLY gone, and my sister’s face turned ghost-white…

The turkey was dry. It was always dry. Diane had a terror of foodborne illness that led her to roast every turkey until it achieved the texture and moisture content of desert sand.

The dining room table was set with the fine china—the gold-rimmed plates that were only brought out for holidays. Lauren sat across from Emily, wearing a emerald green silk blouse that Emily recognized from a recent high-end designer catalog. On Lauren’s wrist sparkled a diamond tennis bracelet that looked suspiciously new.

Mark, Lauren’s husband, sat next to her, looking uncomfortable in a tight dress shirt. He was a salesman for a regional medical device company—a job that paid decent money, but nowhere near enough to support the lifestyle Lauren demanded: the five-bedroom home in the upscale gated neighborhood, the luxury SUV, the private preschools, and the seasonal wardrobe overhauls.

“So, Emily,” Lauren said, taking a long sip from her second glass of Cabernet. “Still at that little computer startup?”

“It’s good,” Emily said carefully, spreading a thin layer of cranberry sauce over her dry turkey. “Keeps me busy.”

“I honestly don't know how you live in Seattle,” Lauren continued, her voice carrying that sharp, dismissive tone she had perfected since high school. “It’s so expensive, and the culture is just so... cold. Mark and I were looking at real estate in Scottsdale last month. We’re thinking about getting a vacation home down there. The winter here is just brutal on my skin.”

Mark coughed violently, clearing his throat and staring down at his plate. “We’re... we’re still looking into options, honey. Market’s pretty tight right now.”

“Oh, please,” Lauren scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. “Everyone’s moving to Arizona. We just need to liquidate some investments.”

Emily caught her father’s eye. Richard was staring down at his plate, his fork picking listlessly at a mound of mashed potatoes. He looked ill. The skin around his mouth was tight, his knuckles white as he gripped his napkin under the table.

“So, Emily,” Diane chimed in, smiling brightly from the head of the table. “Have you thought about moving back home? You know, you’re thirty-two now. You aren't getting any younger. If you moved back to Oakridge, you could find a nice guy, settle down, maybe buy a small condo. I worry about you being all alone out there in the Pacific Northwest.”

“I’m happy where I am, Mom,” Emily said softly. “My work is there.”

“Work, work, work,” Lauren sighed, taking another heavy gulp of wine. “That’s all you ever talk about. Honestly, Em, life isn't just about grinding away in an office. Some of us have families to raise. Some of us are building a legacy. You need to learn to enjoy life a little.”

Emily felt a familiar knot form in the pit of her stomach. The endless, subtle put-downs. The framing of her independence as a tragic failure to secure a husband, while Lauren’s reckless extravagance was framed as a noble devotion to “family.”

“I enjoy my life, Lauren,” Emily said evenly.

“Right. In your rented townhouse with your ten-year-old car,” Lauren smirked. “I’m just saying, it’s okay to want nice things.”

At that moment, Lauren’s phone, sitting on the tablecloth beside her wine glass, chimed with a news alert.

Lauren picked it up idly, swirling her wine with one hand while her thumb scrolled across the screen. “Ugh, tech news. Why do I even get these local business updates? ‘Pacific Northwest Tech Acquisition Reaches Milestone...’”

She stopped scrolling.

Her eyes froze on the screen. The smirk on her face vanished, replaced by a sudden, sharp stillness.

Emily felt her heart leap into her throat. She knew instantly what Lauren was looking at.

Two days ago, the Seattle Business Journal had published a retrospective feature on the Titan acquisition of Aegis Data Solutions, complete with a breakdown of early employee payouts and founder equity allocations. Because Aegis was a private entity that had been acquired by a public entity, certain financial disclosures had become public record.

Lauren’s thumb tapped the screen desperately, zooming in.

“Wait...” Lauren muttered, her voice losing its dismissive lilt, dropping into a tone of sharp, confused suspicion. “What is this?”

“What is what, sweetie?” Diane asked, passing the basket of rolls.

Lauren didn't answer her mother. She raised her head, her blue eyes locked onto Emily with an intensity that felt like a physical blow. The color was draining from her face, replaced by a dark, blotchy red along her neck.

“Emily,” Lauren said slowly, her voice trembling slightly. “What is Aegis Data Solutions?”

The dining room went dead silent.

Richard looked up from his plate, his brow furrowing. Diane paused with the butter knife in mid-air.

“It’s the company I work for,” Emily said, her voice dropping into a flat, neutral register.

“Worked for,” Lauren corrected, her voice rising in pitch. “It says here... it says Titan Software bought Aegis three months ago.”

“Yes.”

“It says the payout for early staff was massive,” Lauren said, her fingers clutching the phone so tightly her knuckles turned blue. She began reading directly from the article, her voice shrill and shaking. “‘...including early operations head Emily Vance, whose early equity stake yielded an estimated net payout of over fourteen to sixteen million dollars post-tax...’”

Lauren slammed her phone down onto the polished oak table, her glass of Cabernet sloshing red wine over the white linen napkin.