“Why would Sophia buy a vacation rental?” she asked. “She doesn’t even take vacations.”

“For income diversification,” James replied. “She already owns four rental properties besides her main home. This would be her sixth property overall.”

If the earlier numbers had landed like stones, this one hit like thunder.

My mother swayed slightly. My father reached out to steady her. Brooke looked like someone had taken the script from her hands and rewritten it in a language she couldn’t read.

“Four rental properties,” my mother whispered. “You own four?”

“Small single-family homes in growing neighborhoods,” I said. “I buy below market value, renovate, and rent them to young professionals. Average cash flow is about eighteen hundred per unit after expenses.”

My father’s eyes narrowed as his mind grabbed onto the math.

“That’s seventy-two hundred a month,” he said slowly. “Over eighty-six thousand a year. Plus appreciation.”

James nodded. “Those properties have gone up by an average of forty-two percent since she bought them. Her real estate equity is about two-point-one million.”

My parents stared at him.

“Two million,” my father said.

“That’s only real estate,” James corrected. “Sophia’s total net worth is closer to three-point-two million when you include retirement, investments, stock options, liquid assets…”

“Three million?” Brooke’s voice cracked.

“About three-point-two,” I said quietly. “Though market changes can affect the exact number.”

My mother’s champagne flute slipped from her hand and shattered against the marble.

“You’re a multi-millionaire?” she asked, the word sounding strange in her mouth.

“On paper,” I said. “Most of it is invested or tied up in property.”

Before they could respond, Dr. Elizabeth Park approached, smiling when she saw me.

“Sophia,” she said warmly. “I didn’t know you were here. Congratulations on the FDA breakthrough designation. That’s incredible.”

My mother turned sharply. “The what?”

“Thank you, Elizabeth,” I said. Her presence felt like a bridge back to my real life. “We’re excited. It still feels a little unreal.”

My father looked confused. “FDA what?”

“The FDA granted our pancreatic cancer drug breakthrough therapy designation three weeks ago,” I explained. “It speeds up the approval process. If things go well, approval could happen in eighteen months instead of four years.”

Elizabeth smiled at my parents, assuming they would be proud. “Sophia’s work is going to save countless lives. She’s brilliant. Are you going to the Geneva conference next month? I heard you’re presenting.”

“I’m presenting preliminary phase three data,” I said. “And giving the keynote on novel drug delivery mechanisms.”

“The keynote?” my mother repeated faintly.

“The international oncology research symposium,” I said. “It’s one of the major conferences in the field. I’m giving the keynote this year. It’s a significant honor.”

James scoffed lightly. “Significant? She’s the youngest keynote speaker in the symposium’s forty-year history.”

Brooke stared at me like I had become a stranger.

“So you’re famous now?” she asked. “Some kind of science celebrity?”

“I’m not famous,” I said. “I’m respected in my field. There’s a difference.”

“She’s published thirty-seven peer-reviewed papers,” Elizabeth added. “Her research has been cited over four thousand times. She has changed oncology drug delivery. That is recognition of real brilliance.”

My parents looked stunned. Brooke looked like she might be sick.

“I need air,” Brooke said abruptly, dropping her ring hand to her side and pushing through the crowd toward the balcony. Michael hesitated, then followed.

My mother moved to go after her, but my father stopped her with a hand on her arm.

“Let them go, Patricia,” he said quietly. “We need to talk to Sophia.”

Elizabeth sensed the tension and stepped away after I told her I would see her in Geneva.

Once she was gone, my mother turned to me, mascara smudged by tears.

“How,” she whispered, “could you have achieved all of this and we didn’t know?”

“Because you never asked,” I said simply.

The truth hung between us.

My mother flinched.

“Because every conversation about my life became a conversation about Brooke,” I continued. “Because you assumed that if I wasn’t posting online or demanding attention, I had nothing worth sharing. Because for eight years, you treated my work and my life like background noise.”

James nodded. “I’ve watched it for years. Every call. Every family gathering. It’s always the Brooke Show. Brooke’s job. Brooke’s boyfriend. Brooke’s engagement. Sophia could cure cancer and you’d ask whether Brooke wanted dessert.”

“That’s not fair,” my father snapped, anger flickering in his eyes. “We love you both.”

“Do you?” I asked.

He blinked.