The ballroom sparkled with gold light and polite applause, the kind of scene meant to honor a long career and a smooth transition of power. My father, Frederick Hale, founder of a major aerospace company, stood proudly in the center—authoritative, admired, and certain the night would unfold exactly as he planned.
He always favored my older brother, Lucas. He didn’t hide it, didn’t soften it, didn’t apologize for it. Still, I came to the celebration as I always did: quietly, hoping we could get through the evening without another public reminder of my place in his world.
When the speeches ended and the guests gathered close, Frederick raised his glass high.
“Tonight,” he announced, “I pass on everything I built.”
He extended an arm toward Lucas.
“The company. The estate. The jet. Every asset. My legacy goes to the son who earned it.”
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