Chapter 3

The next morning, I called a lawyer. A shark. The best one I could find who specialized in contentious divorces involving intellectual property and closely-held businesses.

The initial consultation was eye-opening. My early coding work, the prototypes, my seed money – it all constituted significant sweat equity and initial investment. Mark might have forgotten, but bank statements and old email chains wouldn't lie.

The divorce proceedings were brutal. Mark was stunned when my lawyer laid out the claim: a significant portion of GenLife stock. He fought it, of course. Called me vindictive, greedy. Said I was trying to destroy him.

But the evidence was undeniable. The pre-incorporation agreements I' d naively signed away thinking they were formalities, the wire transfers from my inheritance account directly to the nascent company account, the saved files of my early code with timestamps. It was all there.

He was legally bound. The settlement, when it finally came, was substantial. Not just cash, but a block of GenLife shares that made his eyes water.

The Winthrops were furious. They called me, one after the other. Mrs. Winthrop shrieked about my disloyalty, my ingratitude. Mr. Winthrop, colder, more menacing, threatened to use his influence to ruin me. I listened, then calmly hung up. Their power over me was broken.

Ben was the hardest part. Mark and Cassandra, with the Winthrops' backing, painted me as the villain.

The unstable, jealous woman who was trying to hurt his father and his wonderful new family.

He refused to see me, refused to speak to me on the phone. Each unanswered call, each returned letter, was a fresh stab of pain.

I remembered his mother, Mark's mother. In her last days, her mind clear despite the pain, she'd held my hand. "You're too good for him, Sarah," she'd whispered, her voice weak. "He doesn't see you. But I do. You're strong. Don't let him break you."

I hadn't understood her fully then. I did now.

With the settlement finalized, I packed my bags. There was nothing left for me in Boston. I bought a one-way ticket to San Francisco. Silicon Valley. A place where my skills meant something, where I could build something for myself, on my own terms.

I used my GenLife stock and the cash settlement to found NovaSynthetics, an AI-driven drug discovery company. The idea that Mark had dismissed as "too theoretical" – a refined version of that very molecule – became one of our first research pillars.

Months later, a small, impeccably engraved announcement card found its way to my new, spartan apartment. Mark and Cassandra were engaged. The Winthrops' enthusiastic approval was practically a footnote. I looked at it for a long moment, then tossed it in the trash. It meant nothing.