Sarah watched Michael cross the stage. He was no longer a skinny high school student seeking vengeance. He was a twenty-three-year-old, brilliant software engineer who had just successfully sold his first artificial intelligence patent for a staggering sum of money. He accepted his diploma, shaking the dean’s hand, and waved directly at his mother.
Sarah smiled, placing her hand over her heart. She felt the heavy, comforting weight of the solid gold pin on her lapel—the insignia of the Vanguard Philanthropic Trust.
She was not a passive heiress spending her days on yachts. Upon inheriting her staggering wealth, Sarah had taken the reins of her father’s philanthropic division. She now ran a foundation endowed with hundreds of millions of dollars, dedicated entirely to providing massive, debt-free housing grants and full-ride educational scholarships to struggling single mothers across the country. She was actively using her power to ensure no woman ever had to sew dresses at 3:00 a.m. to feed her child again.
She rarely thought of David or Chloe anymore. They were irrelevant ghosts, cautionary tales whispered in the dark.
The last she had heard through the corporate lawyers, David’s life had entirely pulverized. Following the hostile takeover of his company, he was left with massive, unpayable debts. He had filed for bankruptcy. He was currently managing a mid-tier, incredibly depressing rental car branch in a dying strip mall outside Reno, Nevada. His wages were heavily, permanently garnished by Alexander’s legal team to pay off the debts he had accrued.
Chloe had predictably divorced him within six months of the high school incident, fleeing the moment the money vanished. However, her attempt to ensnare another wealthy older man had backfired spectacularly when she was sued for defamation and extortion, leaving her completely bankrupt and forcing her to scrub her internet presence entirely to avoid the relentless mockery of the public.
They had tried to bury the righteous, and they had been buried themselves.
After the lengthy graduation ceremony concluded, Sarah and Michael walked slowly along the paved paths bordering the Charles River, away from the chaotic crowds. The late afternoon sun caught the polished edge of Michael’s heavy MIT class ring.
“You know,” Michael said, bumping his broad shoulder playfully against hers, “Grandpa offered to buy me a sixty-foot yacht for graduation this morning. He said it builds character to learn how to sail.”
Sarah laughed—a rich, deep, completely unburdened sound that echoed over the water. “Oh lord. And what did you tell him?”
“I told him I’d rather have the cash equivalent placed into the startup fund for my new company,” Michael grinned, stuffing his hands into his pockets. “And maybe, instead of a boat, a really good, extremely expensive steak dinner with my mom tonight.”
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