At my sister’s wedding, when it was time to give a speech, she calmly looked down at me and said something that sent a chill down my spine: “That’s my sister – a single mother who was sent back to the factory. Anyone want to take it back?” My mother laughed heartily, raising her glass of wine as if to cheer: “Second-hand goods but still usable! Bonus, a defective child! Haha!”
The laughter echoed throughout the hall like rubbing salt on my face. I clenched my fists, trying to stay calm, not letting the tears fall. At that moment, the billionaire slowly stood up. He walked over and snatched the microphone from my sister’s hand. The whole room was still laughing… Until his first sentence rang out. Immediately — the laughter stopped, and the atmosphere fell as heavy as lead….
The Plaza’s crystal chandeliers were so dazzling they were blinding, but they couldn’t warm the coldness in my heart. I, Sarah, sat at the farthest round table in the corner, my hand firmly holding Leo’s shoulder – my 5-year-old autistic son. Leo was wearing noise-canceling headphones, busily arranging silver spoons in a neat row, completely isolated from the lavish noise around him.
Today was my sister Vanessa’s wedding. The wedding of the century. The groom was Richard Sterling, the CEO of a rising tech startup, who was known as “Wall Street’s prodigy.” And Vanessa? She was the perfect model: beautiful, stylish, and ruthless.
I wasn’t invited here because of family. I was a “background object.” My presence – a poor single mother with a “disabled” child – only enhanced Vanessa’s dazzling perfection.
“Attention everyone!” The sound of glasses clinking rang out.
Vanessa stood on stage, resplendent in a $20,000 Vera Wang gown. She held the microphone, her eyeliner-lined eyes scanning the room and stopping right in the dark corner where I sat.
“Thank you all for coming,” Vanessa began, her voice sweet but I could smell the scent of gunpowder. “Today is the happiest day of my life. But it wouldn’t be complete without mentioning… my sister.”
The spotlight was aimed at me. I squinted, ducking my head, trying to shield Leo.
“Look,” Vanessa sneered, pointing at me. “That’s Sarah. My sister—a single mother who was sent back to the factory. Her husband abandoned her as soon as he found out she had a spoiled child. Anyone want to take her in?”
The room fell silent for a moment in shock, but then the laughter began to ripple.
My mother, Linda, sat at the VIP table, her face flushed with champagne. She stood up, raised her glass high above her head, and said in a slurred but loud voice:
“Second-hand goods but still usable! Bonus: a defective child! Haha! Someone please take him away, so that this house will have less bad luck!”
Laughter erupted. The elegant guests, the expensive suits, the sparkling evening gowns… they all laughed. They laughed as if my suffering was a comedy act for this million-dollar party.
I clenched my fists under the table, my nails digging into my flesh until they bled. I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t let Leo see my mother cry. I wanted to get up and leave, but my feet felt like they were nailed to the floor from humiliation.
Richard, the groom, standing next to Vanessa, also smirked along with his wife. He whispered something into Vanessa’s ear, making her laugh even harder.
At that moment, a loud noise rang out.
It was the sound of a chair being pushed back, scraping against the marble floor, creating a deafening sound.
At the center table – the most honored seat – a man slowly stood up.
He was about 50 years old, his gray hair combed back, wearing a perfectly tailored black suit. The aura he exuded made the surrounding air seem to freeze.
It was Julian Thorne. The billionaire venture capitalist, the most notorious “Shark” in New York, who held the fate of hundreds of technology companies, including Richard’s. He was the most important guest that Richard had had to kneel and beg for a whole month to invite.
Julian did not smile. His face was as cold as a granite block.
He stepped onto the stage. The sound of his footsteps hitting the wooden floor echoed evenly, full of power. Vanessa, who was laughing, suddenly stopped. Richard hurriedly adjusted his tie, intending to reach out and shake hands: “Mr. Thorne, you want to give a congratulatory speech? It’s such an honor…”
Julian Thorne didn’t look at Richard. He snatched the microphone from Vanessa’s hand with such force that she almost fell over.
The room still had a few giggles left… Until his first words rang out.
“‘Clearance goods’. ‘My fault’.” Julian repeated each word, his voice low but resonating through the speaker system, hitting everyone’s eardrums. “Is that how you call your benefactor?”
Instantly — the laughter died away. The atmosphere fell as heavy as lead.
Richard’s face paled. “Mr. Thorne… what are you talking about? Which benefactor?”
Julian turned to look straight at Richard, his eyes as sharp as a scalpel.
“Mr. Richard,” Julian said. “Last week, you presented to my board your groundbreaking AI algorithm that can predict the stock market—your so-called ‘genius mind,’ the only reason I would consider investing $50 million in your empty company.”
Richard began to tremble. “Y-yes, sir. It’s my passion.”
“Lies!” Julian shouted, the sound of it making the entire room jump.
He pulled a file from his inside pocket and slammed it down on the banquet table. Papers flew everywhere.
“I’ve had my legal team investigate. You didn’t write the algorithm. The source code contained a hidden digital signature. The signature was: S.V.—Leo’s Mom.”
All eyes turned to me. Vanessa gasped. My mother kicked
I dropped my glass.
Julian stepped off the stage and walked straight toward me. The crowd parted like the Red Sea. He stopped in front of my table, leaned down, and looked at Leo stacking spoons.
“Hello, Leo,” Julian said softly, a far cry from his previous ferocity. He pulled a solid gold spoon from his pocket and placed it in the boy’s collection. Leo looked up and smiled.
Julian turned to look at the silent audience.
“You call her a ‘clearance sale’? You call this kid a ‘fault’?”
He pointed at me.
“Sarah Vance is a hidden math genius. For the past five years, she’s been freelancing day and night to support her child. She’s written the most complex code my engineers have yet to crack. And Richard,” he turned to the trembling groom, “you hired her for dirt cheap, tricked her into signing slave contracts, and then stole her work and claimed it as your own.”
I was stunned. I knew I’d written code for Richard, but I didn’t know he’d used it to raise $50 million. I just thought it was small projects to make money to buy Leo’s drugs.
“I… I…” Richard stammered, sweating profusely.
“And this child,” Julian put his hand on Leo’s shoulder. “The boy is not at fault. He has Savant syndrome. The way he arranges numbers, the patterns… is the inspiration for Sarah to create the structure of that algorithm. Without Leo, without Sarah, your company, Richard, is just a pile of trash.”
Julian stood up straight, adjusting the buttons of his vest. His statement was like a death sentence.
“I, Julian Thorne, officially declare to cancel all investments in Sterling Company. Furthermore, my legal team will represent Sarah to sue you for intellectual property theft and commercial fraud. You will not only go bankrupt, Richard. You will go to jail.”
Richard collapsed to the floor. Vanessa screamed, rushed forward and grabbed his shirt: “You said you were a genius! You said we would be rich!”
“Shut up!” Richard pushed Vanessa away. “It’s you! It’s your poisonous mouth that angered him!”
My mother, Linda, was sober now. She looked at the chaos, then at me. Her opportunistic instincts kicked in. She staggered toward me.
“Sarah! My darling!” she cried, reaching out to hug me. “I know you’re the best! I was just kidding! Tell Mr. Thorne, we’re family…”
I stood up. I took Leo’s hand. For the first time in my life, I looked my mother in the eye without fear.
“Family?” I asked, my voice calm. “Families don’t call their children liquidation goods. Families don’t laugh at each other’s pain.”
I turned to Julian Thorne. “Thank you, Mr. Thorne. But I don’t need you to sue them.”
Everyone was stunned. Vanessa and my mother breathed a sigh of relief.
“I don’t need you to sue,” I continued, “Because I already sent all the original evidence and my work logs to the FBI this morning. While Richard was busy meeting guests, the arrest warrant was signed.”
The distant sound of police sirens echoed through the Plaza lobby as a response to my words.
“And as for ‘clearance items,'” I looked at Vanessa, who was sitting on the ground in her gorgeous wedding dress, now looking miserable. “You’re right, Vanessa. I was sent back. But not because I was defective. I was too valuable for those who didn’t have the qualifications to own me.”
I led Leo away. Julian Thorne smiled, following behind us like a bodyguard.
“Let’s go, Sarah,” he said. “My corporation has a CTO position. And I think the new office will have enough room for Leo’s spoon collection.”
We walked out the gilded doors of The Plaza. Behind us, weeping, the clanking of handcuffs, and the collapse of a fake family left in the past.
Outside, the New York sky was clear. And I knew, my mother and I’s real life was just beginning.
