“You were born for this part too,” she said.
By the time Emma met me outside the building, I was trending.
She held up her tablet like it was a trophy. “You’re everywhere.”
I scanned headlines as we walked.
MIT Graduate’s AI Security Innovation Acquired for $50 Million.
Young Developer Revolutionizes Protection for Small Businesses.
Microsoft’s Newest Rising Star.
Emma bumped my shoulder. “And guess who’s been trying to reach me all morning.”
“My family.”
“Your sister called six times. She told me she was your business partner and needed urgent access to your contract documents.”
I stopped on the sidewalk and stared at her.
“She said what?”
Emma widened her eyes theatrically. “I know. I almost congratulated her on her improv skills.”
“And my parents?”
“Your dad left a voicemail saying there must be some mistake and that you couldn’t have done this alone. He wants to review the deal with his lawyers.”
Of course he did. My success had to be either suspicious or communal. Never wholly mine.
Back at the apartment, Jack had upgraded the celebration from champagne to a full spread of takeout and bakery cookies and a sheet of poster board that read LITTLE CODING PROJECTS in block letters above the couch.
I laughed so hard I had to put down my bag.
“We’re framing that later,” Emma said.
We had barely opened the second bottle when an unfamiliar number lit up my phone. For one irrational second, I thought it might be another reporter. Instead, the line filled with the warm, textured voice that had steadied more parts of my life than she probably knew.
“Olivia, darling.”
“Grandma.”
“I just saw the news.”
Her smile was audible. “I always knew you were brilliant, even when your parents couldn’t see straight enough to notice it.”
My throat tightened. Of all the things family can do, the most powerful may be this: naming you accurately before the world does.
Grandma had done that for me since I was twelve.
When my parents said computer obsession wasn’t healthy for a girl, she drove me to a used electronics store outside Worcester and helped me buy my first machine with money she pretended was a birthday advance. When I stayed at her house during summers, she let me turn the den into a maze of cords and parts and never once complained when I missed lunch because I was “in the middle of something.” She used to set iced tea beside my keyboard without interrupting. “Inventors need refueling,” she’d say.
“Thanks, Grandma,” I said quietly. “That means a lot.”
“Your grandfather would be proud. He always said you had his tinkering mind.” She paused. “Your parents are here, by the way, making a real spectacle of themselves.”
I closed my eyes. “Already?”
“Oh yes. They’re insisting you somehow manipulated Microsoft. Gregory says no legitimate company would hand that kind of opportunity to a young woman straight out of school unless someone had misrepresented something.”
I laughed once, stunned by how naked the bias sounded when repeated plainly.
Grandma’s voice sharpened. “I told him exactly how many years I’ve watched you work. I told him where every holiday disappeared to when you went upstairs with that laptop. I told him maybe if he spent half as much time listening to you as he did financing Kate’s next miracle, he wouldn’t be so shocked.”
I leaned against the kitchen counter, blinking back sudden tears.
“They’re just realizing what they lost,” she said more gently.
After I hung up, Emma took one look at me and passed me a napkin.
“What did she say?”
“That she always knew.”