Chapter 28 #2
“Well, I’m here,” I say simply, crossing the room and taking the seat next to Sophie with as much confidence as I can muster while my stomach churns with morning sickness and my bag contains two positive pregnancy tests wrapped in paper towels.
Sophie squeezes my hand under the table, quick and grateful, and I squeeze back.
“Then let’s get to it,” Sloane says, opening her leather portfolio.
“Today’s vote on the platform overhaul. We’ve been discussing this for months, and it’s time to make a final decision.
The proposal is to complete the transition we started last year: fully replace the remaining educational content with engagement-optimized programming, implement the new algorithm changes across all age groups, and expand into the two-to-four demographic with our new toddler suite. ”
My stomach turns, and it has nothing to do with morning sickness. We grew up in the same house, were raised by the same parents, and learned the same values. How did we get here?
“For the record,” Sophie says, “I’m still opposed. The new content has zero educational value. We’d be completing the transformation from a learning platform into a digital slot machine designed to addict children and sell toys and cereal. That’s not what Mom and Dad built this company to do.”
“Mom and Dad aren’t here anymore,” Sloane says flatly. “The engagement-focused changes we’ve already made have increased our revenue by forty percent. This vote completes what we started.”
“At what cost?” Sophie presses. “We’ve seen the internal research. Kids aren’t learning anything from the new content. We’re deliberately creating addiction in children and calling it a business strategy.”
Erica flinches almost imperceptibly at Sophie’s words, and Morgan’s jaw tightens. They know she’s right. And they’ve voted with Sloane anyway, every single time, because standing up to our oldest sister has always felt impossible.
“We’re staying competitive in an oversaturated market,” Sloane counters, her voice smooth. “Every minute a child spends on KidStream is a minute they’re not spending on TikTok or YouTube. If we don’t capture their attention, someone else will.”
“So we should be the ones hurting them instead of letting someone else do it?” The words come out of my mouth before I can stop them, and suddenly everyone is looking at me. “That’s the argument?”
A muscle in Sloane’s cheek twitches, the first crack in her composure. “I’m not going to debate this again, Emma. We’ve had this conversation a dozen times. If we can establish KidStream as their first screen experience, we own that audience for life. Let’s just vote.”
“No, we’re not voting yet.” My heart pounds against my ribs, but I force myself to hold her gaze.
“First screen experience to own that audience for life? They’re two-year-olds, Sloane.
They should be playing with blocks and reading picture books, getting dirty in the backyard and making up imaginary games. I’ve seen—“
“Emma.” She cuts me off, her tone sharp. “You are acting—“
“Did I say I was finished speaking?” The words slice through the room like a shard of ice, and she actually blinks, startled into silence.
I’ve had enough of being steamrolled by her.
“I’ve seen the content you’re pushing. Addictive garbage designed to hook developing brains with zero regard for what it does to them.
Screen time is going to happen, and parents deserve access to something safe during times when they need their kids occupied.
It can be content that actually teaches kids instead of just exploiting them, like Mom and Dad originally intended. ”
In my peripheral vision, Sophie looks at me with barely contained glee, and Erica and Morgan are no longer avoiding eye contact but listening intently, their gazes darting between Sloane and me like they’re watching a tennis match.
“Other companies are already targeting that demographic—“ Sloane starts.
“So what?” My voice is flat now, cold in a way I didn’t know I was capable of.
“We are not turning Mom and Dad’s legacy into predatory trash.
And fuck every other company that puts profit over children.
We don’t have to be part of that race to the bottom.
” I pause briefly. “Erica. Morgan.” I turn to face them directly, these sisters I’ve known my whole life, these women I used to build blanket forts with and stay up late whispering secrets to in the dark.
“I know you’ve been going along with this because it’s easier.
But you don’t have to keep voting for things you don’t believe in. You have a choice.”
Erica’s eyes are shining now, bright with tears she’s trying to blink back. Morgan looks up with red-rimmed eyes that say everything about how she’s really been feeling.
“She’s right,” Morgan says quietly.
Sloane’s head snaps toward her. “Morgan—“
“I’ve been uncomfortable with this for months.” Morgan straightens in her chair, and there’s a strength in her voice I wasn’t sure she had. “Every time we have one of these meetings I feel sick afterward.”
I blink. I honestly wasn’t expecting this to work.
This has been going on for years, and back when I used to argue at board meetings, back before I gave up, Erica and Morgan would pull me aside afterward and tell me that Sloane was the oldest, that she knew how to run a business better than any of us, that I should trust her judgment and stop making waves.
I’d always hoped I’d eventually get through to them, that someday they’d see what I was seeing, and now that it’s actually happening I feel a relief so profound it makes my eyes sting.
Like I might be getting part of my family back.
I look over at Erica, and she gives me a half smile, watery and uncertain but real.
“Me too,” Erica adds. “Mom would have hated this and I know Dad does, Sloane. We’ve tried to talk to you about this, but you just don’t listen.
And I’m...” Her voice wavers but she pushes through.
“I’m tired of you telling us we’re stupid about the business.
I’m tired of feeling like my opinion doesn’t matter just because I’m not as aggressive as you. ”
Shock flickers across Sloane’s face before she gets her expression under control. For just a moment she looks like the sister I remember from childhood, uncertain and wounded, before the mask slides back into place.
“I’m calling for a vote,” I say, and my voice comes out steady even though my heart is racing. “To reject the platform overhaul. To restore the educational mission our parents created, reverse the engagement-focused changes, and take the toddler expansion off the table permanently.”
“You can’t just—“ Sloane starts.
“All in favor?” I ask loudly.
My hand goes up, steady and certain. Sophie’s follows immediately, and she turns to give me a smile that’s half tears, half triumph.
Then Erica raises her hand, slowly, like she’s breaking through something that’s held her back for years.
And finally, Morgan, her chin lifting with a defiance.
Four hands in the air. Sloane’s stays down, her face ghostly.
“Motion carries,” Sophie says quietly. “Four to one.”
Sloane stares at us for a long moment, her jaw working like she’s trying to find words and can’t. Erica looks physically ill, her shoulders hunched like she’s bracing for impact, waiting for the explosion we all know is coming.
We grew up together, shared bedrooms and holidays and Sunday dinners, and yet Sloane has always been like this.
Always the one who wielded her authority like a weapon, who made the rest of us feel small for disagreeing with her.
It’s part of why I’ve kept my distance all these years, why moving felt like freedom even when it also felt like failure.
Sloane finally lets out a sharp, bitter laugh that has no warmth in it at all, gathering her portfolio and her bag with jerky, furious movements.
“You want to run this company into the ground? Be my fucking guest.” Her voice is venomous, ugly.
“I’m done. I’m so fucking done with all of you.
You’re just as naive and small-minded as Mom was. ”
“What the hell, Sloane,” Sophie says, and even Erica and Morgan look taken aback at the cruelty of invoking our mother like that.
“Good,” I say, and my voice is steadier than I feel. “Because Mom built something worth protecting. If being like her means caring more about children than profit margins, then I’ll take that comparison as a compliment.”
Sloane doesn’t respond. She just turns and walks out, her heels clicking against the floor, the door swinging shut behind her with a force that makes the glass rattle in its frame.
The silence that follows feels enormous.
I look at my other sisters, at Sophie’s tear-streaked face and Erica’s shell-shocked expression and Morgan’s trembling hands, and the reality of what just happened starts to sink in.
After years of Sloane running this company into something our parents would have been ashamed of, after months of Sophie fighting alone, after I ran away instead of staying to help, we finally stood together and said no.
Sophie reaches over and grabs my hand, squeezing so hard it almost hurts. “Holy shit,” she whispers. “We actually did it.”
“We did,” I say, and my voice cracks on the words. “We really did.”
Sophie excuses herself to go speak with one of the company lawyers about next steps, but Morgan, Erica, and I hang back in the conference room.
The three of us stand there awkwardly for a moment, years of distance and unspoken things hanging in the air between us, the Seattle skyline glittering through the windows like it’s watching us try to figure out how to be sisters again.
“We owe you an apology,” Erica says finally, rubbing her face with both hands like she’s trying to scrub away the tension of the past hour.
“We should have pushed back against Sloane years ago instead of just going along with whatever she wanted because it was easier than thinking for ourselves. Or easier than having to deal with her blow ups.”
“We were scared,” Morgan adds, her voice quiet but steady. “After Mom died, everything happened so fast, and Sloane stepped up before any of us could catch our breath. It was just easier to let her take the reins.”
I recall those first months after we lost her, the fog of grief that made everything feel muted and far away.
Sitting in lawyers’ offices signing documents I barely read.
Nodding along to things I didn’t fully understand.
We were all so young, really. Too young to lose a parent, too young to inherit a company, too young to know how to hold onto each other while everything fell apart.
“I understand,” I tell them. “We were all just trying to survive.”
“Does this mean you’re coming back?” Morgan asks, tucking her hair behind her ear in a nervous gesture I recognize from childhood.
“Really coming back, being part of the day-to-day operations, helping us rebuild what Mom and Dad created? We need you, Emma. Mom always said you had her instincts for what kids actually need.”
I think about my classroom, all those small faces looking up at me every morning.
The quiet peace of Dark River, the way the mountains look at sunset, the sense of belonging I’ve found in that little town where nobody knew my family name or expected anything from me except to be myself.
Theo and Chloe. The two people I love more than I ever thought possible.
My hand drifts to my stomach without permission. And maybe a third, soon.
“I can’t,” I say softly. “I’m sorry, but I can’t move back to Seattle.
My life is in Dark River now. I have a teaching job I love, students counting on me to be there every day.
” I pause, the words about the baby pressing against my teeth, desperate to be spoken, but Theo has to know first. He deserves to hear it before anyone else.
Morgan nods, and there’s understanding in her expression rather than disappointment. “I kind of figured. I know you always seemed happier being hands-on with kids than dealing with the corporate side of children’s education. We’ll hold strong here with Sophie.”
Erica winces slightly. “God, we owe Sophie the biggest apology too.” She pauses, glancing toward the door Sloane stormed through. “Maybe Sloane was serious about being done, but if not, I expect some battles ahead.”
There’s a sureness settling into my bones, a clarity about my path that feels right. Why not both? Why not have the life I’ve built in Dark River and still be part of protecting what my parents created?
“I won’t disappear again,” I tell them. “I promise. I’ll consult on content, join video calls, review curriculum proposals.
I’d actually love having input on the educational programming, just in a more hands-off capacity.
” I take a breath. “I’ll transfer a bigger percentage of my shares to you three and Sophie to reflect that.
It only seems fair if you’re doing the day-to-day work. ”
They both nod in unison, that twin synchronicity that used to drive the rest of us crazy as kids, and we all look at each other with eyes that are too bright, emotions running too close to the surface.
Morgan wipes her eye with the back of her hand. “Mom would be proud of you. She always said you were the bravest of all of us.”
My eyes wet with tears. Mom. What she would say if she could see us now, if she could see the fight we just won and the bridges we’re starting to rebuild. Trust your gut, girls. It knows things your brain hasn’t figured out yet.
My gut is telling me to go home. To Dark River. To Theo. To whatever comes next.