Trzynaście lat po naszym rozwodzie, mój były mąż krzyknął: „Jak śmiesz tu przychodzić?” podczas konkursu intelektualnego. Ale kiedy moi synowie bliźniacy weszli na scenę, by odebrać złote medale, jego twarz natychmiast zrobiła się fioletowa.

Leo and Ethan walked beside her.

Their medals flashed beneath the lights as the three of them disappeared down the corridor.

I stayed on my knees until the sound of their footsteps vanished.

By sunrise, my world had collapsed.

Financial networks ran nonstop coverage of Sterling Dominion.

Federal authorities seized records from company headquarters.

Board members resigned.

Investigations multiplied.

Victoria immediately filed for divorce and began fighting to protect whatever remained of her family trust.

Preston was removed from his elite academy.

Once people began examining his academic history, much of his supposed brilliance disappeared along with the money supporting it.

I lost the mansion.

The cars.

The company.

The title.

Everything I had spent thirteen years sacrificing people to obtain.

Six months later, I was sitting alone on a wet park bench across from MIT.

My coat had come from a thrift store.

Rain gathered along the edge of my sleeves.

Across the street, students crowded around a large auditorium.

Banners hung from the stone pillars announcing the International Quantum Computing Summit.

Two names dominated the largest banner:

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