Do you hear me?” Her voice was a hiss dressed up as a whisper, and she leaned so close the boy flinched.

“Roderick canceled a board meeting to be here for you.

The tutors we hired are university professors.

They cost tens of thousands.

If you don’t take home a major award today, how am I supposed to face these people?”

I watched the boy.

His face was pale and a little doughy from a life with no friction in it, and there was an exhaustion on it no child should wear.

He was accustomed to luxury, and equally accustomed to serving as the most expensive ornament on his mother’s social vehicle.

I gave the faint, rehearsed smile I used when closing a hostile deal, put my heavy hand on his trembling shoulder, and said, in the grumbling authoritative register that sounded commanding to any bystander and hollow to the boy, “Be confident, son.

You’re part of this family.

You walk out there with your head high.

The materials, the tutors, the best of everything — I’ve secured all of it.

Your only job is to go up and bring back the title.” Delphine relaxed against my arm, and a triumphant little smile spread across her painted mouth as her gaze swept the neighboring clusters of parents.

It was a silent, arrogant announcement: the most powerful man in this room belongs to me, and my son’s future is paved with his gold.