UNCLE HAROLD’S ESTATE

I graduated valedictorian from my Seattle high school, won a scholarship to the University of Washington, majoring in Finance and Systems Engineering.

All four years of college, I interned unpaid every summer at Meyers Property Holdings — not because Uncle Harold pulled any strings, but because he was the first person to insist I prove my ability before anyone even considered our blood relation.

“If you want to work here eventually, you’ll be competing against anyone else who wants that same position,” he told me flatly, on my very first day interning.

“I’m not going to go easy on you just because you’re my niece.”

So that’s exactly how it went.

I started at the lowest-level financial analyst position after graduation, working under a manager who had no idea I had any connection to the Chairman of the Board, and it took me four years to climb to Vice President of Finance on my own merit alone.

The year I turned twenty-six, when the previous CFO retired, it was the Board of Directors — not Uncle Harold — who voted me into the role.

I hadn’t spoken to my parents in fifteen years.