At my brother’s anniversary celebration, they placed me in the hallway at a flimsy folding table. “Real seats are for important people, not you,” Dad declared to 156 guests. People streamed past, snapping photos and whispering. I said nothing, the humiliation smoldering inside me. Four hours later, my brother called, shouting, “You bought the hotel for $2.3 million?” I replied softly, “Six months ago.” And that was only the start…
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