Jennifer placed a fresh folder in front of me.
Our executive team filled the seats around the table, and morning light flashed across the skyline.
Before the meeting began, she noticed Uncle Tom’s business card beside my tablet.
“Keeping a backup plan?” she asked.
I smiled.
“A reminder.”
“Of what?”
I looked at the chair beneath me—the same chair Marcus had seen when his face went white.
“That people often decide what you are before they bother to learn what you built.”
Then I opened the folder.
The room quieted, not with pity or agreement, but with attention.
This time, I did not need anyone to believe I belonged there.
I already knew.
