It Was The Night Of The Trust Gala When My Stepmother Threw My Expulsion Letter Into My Champagne And Said I’d Starve In The Real World, But She Never Checked The Deed Transfer I Already Filed At County Hall

I think about the woman who stood in a damp studio with four hundred dollars and a broken laptop. She didn't know how to build an empire. She just knew how to survive the next day. And somehow, day after day, that was enough. I poured myself a glass of tap water, set it on the windowsill, and smiled at the quiet. The game never really changed. I just learned how to play it on my own terms.