The city had always felt honest to me. It did not care how polished you looked. It cared what worked. Steel. code. wiring. foundations. Flow.
Family, I was beginning to understand, could be the opposite. Family could worship the façade and never once ask what held it up.
When I got home, I opened an old leather notebook I had not touched in years. The cover was worn. The first pages contained sketches from a second startup that had nearly ruined me and then made me. Toward the back were blank sheets.
At the top of one page I wrote a single word:
Reset.
Then I began making a list.
Not revenge. Structure.
Confirm licensing protections.
Lock infrastructure access.
Review every partner touchpoint.
Map investor relationships.
Prepare public-facing ownership documentation.
Reassess wedding attendance.
Stop explaining.
