My Sister Humiliated Me at Her Party — She Didn’t Know I Secretly Funded Her Entire Life
Part 2
I put my phone away just as the glass door slid open again.
Heather walked out, but she wasn’t alone.
She had her squad, two other influencers holding ring lights, and a cameraman filming her every move.
Megan, there you are.
Her voice was high, performative.
We’re doing a quick live stream about gratitude and hustle, and I need you to hold the reflector.
The lighting out here is tricky.
She didn’t ask.
She commanded.
I stood still, my hands resting on the cold railing.
No.
The word felt heavy and solid, like a stone hitting water.
Heather blinked, her smile faltering for a fraction of a second before she recovered for the camera.
Aw, she’s shy.
Megan is camera shy because she hasn’t quite found her footing yet.
But that’s okay.
We support everyone on their journey, right, guys?
She turned to her phone, speaking directly to her followers.
Megan is actually a perfect example of why you have to stay hungry.
She’s been trying to get her freelance graphic design thing off the ground for years.
It’s a struggle, but hey, not everyone has the hustle gene.
The cameraman zoomed in on my thrifted cardigan.
I saw the comments scrolling on her screen.
My brother-in-law Tyler stepped out onto the balcony then.
He looked tired.
He was holding a tray of hors d’oeuvres that Heather had probably ordered him to pass around.
He saw the camera, saw my face, and set the tray down on a side table.
Heather, maybe we should cut the stream, Tyler said, his voice low.
Let’s just enjoy the party.
Don’t be a buzzkill, Ty, she snapped, not looking away from her phone.
We’re manifesting.
Actually, that’s the big announcement.
She turned back to me, her eyes gleaming with a manic kind of triumph.
Megan, you’ll appreciate this.
I’m in talks with a major conglomerate.
They want to buy the brand.
I stayed silent.
Five million dollars, she whispered, leaning in so the microphone would catch it.
I built this empire from nothing.
Zero help.
Just my vision and my grind.
And once the deal closes, well, things are going to change.
She straightened up, looking down at me with a smirk that wasn’t for the camera.
I’m going to be really rich, Megan.
Like, real money.
And I think it’s time you learn to stand on your own two feet.
No more charity.
Charity.
The word hung in the damp air.
She thought the occasional dinner she paid for with my money was charity.
She thought letting me hold a reflector was charity.
You’re selling the company?
Letter of intent is signed, she bragged.
We close next week.
I looked at Tyler.
He was staring at his shoes, shame radiating off him in waves.
He knew, or at least he suspected.
That’s impressive, I said.
Selling a company you built from scratch.
Self-made, she corrected, flipping her hair.
That’s the hashtag.
She turned back to her phone, laughing at a comment.
Okay, guys, we’re going back inside to pop some real bottles.
Megan, you can stay out here if you want.
Try not to mope, it ruins the vibe.
She swept back inside, her entourage trailing behind her like a comet’s tail.
Tyler lingered for a moment.
Megan, he started.
I’m-
Go inside, Tyler, I said.
He nodded once and followed his wife.
I stood alone on the balcony.
Five million dollars.
She was selling a company she didn’t own.
She was selling intellectual property registered to my holding company.
She was selling inventory paid for by my accounts.
She wasn’t just a brat anymore.
She was a liability.
She was committing corporate fraud on a live stream.
I looked at the closed glass door.
The party inside was a blur of light and motion, a silent movie of excess.
I didn’t feel angry.
I felt clinical.
I pulled my phone out again.
I didn’t call a ride.
I opened my banking app.
Transfer to Angel investor account, cancelled.
Recurring transfers, cancelled.
Scheduled transfers, cancelled.
Then I opened my calendar.
Monday morning, nine a.m. meeting with legal.
Self-made, I whispered to the empty ocean.
Next week, we would see who actually made what.
What would you do if your own sibling tried to sell a company they stole from you?
