My Sister Mocked Me In The Family Chat As An _Unemployed Gamer._ Then Begged.. - Reddit Family Tales

Episode Transcript

Speaker 1 (00:00):
My sister mocked me in the family chat as an
unemployed gamer, then begged for free help. I said no.
Weeks later, the bar suspended her license. My sister, Alicia
twenty nine, a female, created a meme about me, called
her thirty one a guy and how being a freelance
coder equaled being an unemployed gamer, which she posted in
the family group chat. Everyone laughed, nobody defended me. I

(00:25):
quit the chat without saying anything. Fast forward a few
weeks and guess who is calling me? Because something critical
has happened and now my skill set matters. What began
as her attempting to use me escalated into a full
fledged breakdown with attorneys, falsehoods, and some wonderful karma for
which I did not have to lift a finger. You're
going to enjoy this one. It becomes messy. Have you

(00:45):
ever looked at your phone and knew it was ready
to piss you off? That was me last Tuesday. I
work as a freelance software engineer. So while I was
eating leftover Chinese and correcting a malfunctioning contact form for
a client whose website appeared to have been time traveled
from two thousand and seven, I received a ping from
a family group chat for context, this chat was always
a mess. My mom sends me good morning gifts every day,

(01:08):
my dad sends me recycled hustling quotes, and my sister
Elisia sends me odd images of her successes like she's
conducting her own press release campaign, while Aunt Morwin sends
those ridiculous minions jokes. So half the time I would
silence the chat and move on, but this one hit differently.
That was a meme, a cartoon drawing of a scruffy
person in a hoodie with Cheeto dust on the keyboard,

(01:30):
surrounded by empty energy drink cans. The caption read freelance
coding equals unemployed gamer. My name was tagged twice to
emphasize the point. Alicia added, el MAO had to share
you doing okay over there, called her. My mother then
responded with a laughing emoji. Dad said so true, ha ha,
and my cousin Narissa threw in a Kevin Hart laughing gift,

(01:52):
as if it were the greatest thing she'd seen. I
did not respond. There's no point. I simply left the
conversation silently. There is there's no dramatic exit message. There
was no, you'll regret this. Instead, I tapped leave chat
and that was it. Not because I was angry, I
mean that irritated me, but basically I didn't want to
waste any more of my time on folks who still

(02:12):
believe that working for a law firm implies success and
that starting your own business means your one bad day
away from streaming Fortnite for rent. Elisia has always been
known as the golden child straight A's Honor Society and
law school. The family essentially organized a graduation week for
her custom cake photoshoot the works. When I became certified

(02:33):
in front end development and took on my first serious client, cricket.
Dad termed at a phase. Mom inquired whether I was
still doing that computer thing. Alsia joked that I should
write Digital Handyman on my business card. So no, I
did not leave because I had been harmed. I departed
since I did not want to stay for a roast
session to which I had not RSVP. It is not

(02:54):
about ego, It's all about self respect. I grew up
as the thirteen year old who built his own piece
while everyone else was playing sports or taking dancing lessons.
I enjoyed figuring out why things didn't function and correcting
them without having to ask anyone for assistance. However, my
family thought I was anti social or lazy at the time.
At the age of ten, Elisia started giving fake court

(03:16):
presentations in the living room, dressed in her mother's blazer
and with her stuffed animals serving as jurors. They ate
it up our tiny lawyer. Every time she spoke, they
pretended she was healing cancer. Every time I mended the
Wi Fi or assisted mom's friend in resetting her email password.
I was just the child who knows how to use technology.

(03:36):
By the age of twenty, I had stopped trying to
impress anyone. I freelanced, worked on well paying jobs, and
gradually built up a client base. I didn't make a
big deal out of it, nor did I bring it
up in front of anyone. I simply toiled silently, believing
that achievement would eventually speak for itself. Apparently not loud
enough for them to hear over Elisia's constant bragging about

(03:57):
her bar exam and LinkedIn followers. So yeah, that meme.
That was the moment I knew there was no way
to win them over. They weren't laughing because they had
misinterpreted me. They were laughing because that's how they perceived me,
the weaker sibling, the joke. So I bounced, no huge speech,
no rage, texting, simply done. Later that night, I continued

(04:17):
to think about it, not the meme itself, but how
casual it felt for them. They acted without hesitation. Similarly,
they don't hesitate to compliment Elisia on everything, including things
I assisted her with In the background. Yes, that is
a fun little detail. She once called me up worried
since her company's internal portal was malfunctioning during a live conference.

(04:38):
I fixed the CSS and JavaScript on the spot. Never
asked for a thank you. I just did it because
I am not petty. But guess who said she figured
it out on her own on the following team call.
So no, I am not mad, I am not bitter.
I'm done being the team mascot for a family that
only applauds when the lawyer speaks. I screenshotted the meme
not for retribution, but because I enjoy preserving receipts, especially

(05:00):
for situations like this. It's strangely motivating, like a digital
version of They'll see I returned to work. Three tickets
are in my inbox. A client asked if I could
create a custom widget to track bookings. Another user is
looking for assistance with a broken WordPress site. Today was
a good day, quiet productive, no memes, no phony smiles,

(05:21):
just code, coffee and tranquility. And you know what, that
meme was the nicest thing they could have done for me,
since I now understand exactly where I stand, and unlike them,
I am not pretending they can fabricate whatever they want, status, proximity,
and even the tight knit family photo they publish online
for likes. I'm not playing that game. I do not

(05:43):
need their approval. I have invoices that speak louder. So
imagine my disappointment when I received a text from Alisia
five days later. There was no hey, there was no
how are you, There was no sign of humility, just
pure panic. Alisia, I need your help. It's urgent. I think.
So someone hacked my files. Something important might get leaked.

(06:03):
I gazed at the message for a good ten seconds, blinked,
and then laughed out loud alone in my room like
a crazy person. This was the same person who mocked
me as a basement it guy in front of my
father's coworkers last Thanksgiving for wearing a sweatshirt instead of
a blazer. Now she has urgent technical issues, and I
suddenly appear. I didn't respond, not right away. I took

(06:24):
a screenshot and went back to work. We had a
payment gateway integration to test her problem. Did not even
make my top five of the day. The next morning,
she reiterated, Elisia, I'm serious. These files are strictly confidential.
I could go into trouble. You're familiar with this material.
I truly need you. Then a second text arrived, Elisia,

(06:46):
I'm not asking you to fix everything. Just look into it.
You're not even working a real job anyway. That's the
last line. Man, That's what made it enjoyable. I could
almost hear her voice in my thoughts, smug, dismissive, as
if asking me for help was a favor. Unemployed gamers
have nothing better to do, right, So I said, you
want professional help, you'll need to pay my professional rate.

(07:09):
I was short, direct and respectful, with no sarcasm. I
was so pleased of myself. She did not like that, Alisia, Wow, seriously,
you're charging your own sister, Alisia, you'd really let me
get into trouble just because of a joke. Yes, exactly.
It was always just a harmless little joke. I said,

(07:31):
I'm not going to let you get into trouble. You
are I then muted her. Three hours later, my mother
called I let it ring twice before answering. I knew
what tone she would use, that gentle, theatrical, guilt filled voice,
the one she pulls out when someone is in the
hospital or when she needs a trip to the airport.
At four a m called her. She began, your sister

(07:54):
is going through a serious situation. You really can't just
help her out. I took a breath. She said, I
wasn't working a real job. Remember so this unemployed gamer's
busy playing on his keyboard right now. Don't be petty.
I hadn't been I handled billing. She's your sister, Mom said,
as if it were some kind of global override code,

(08:15):
and I'm your son, I said back. Funny, how that
only counts when a leisure requires something. She sighed, as
if I were being difficult, As if I wasn't the
one being asked to clean up a mess for free
and then ridiculed for doing so. That's the issue with
individuals like them. They want the rewards of your skills,
but not the respect for your labor. They believe that
love equals unpaid labor. What made it funnier she had

(08:39):
already tried approaching other people. Later I discovered that she
had approached two of her firm's legitimate tech guys, whom
she had previously boasted about in her network. One informed
her it would cost one thy two hundred dollars with
no shortcuts. The other requested five hundred dollars merely to
open the files. No handouts, no phony sibling discounts. So
she looped back to me, believing I'd joined for free

(09:01):
because we shared a last name, like I was still
the kid who fixed her printer in exchange for pizza.
She's nervous, called her. My mother explained she should be.
I answered, confidential files, legal career, those consequences aren't a joke.
Mom paused for a moment, Then she said what she
always says when she loses an argument. You've always been

(09:22):
jealous of her. There it was the typical fallback. Not
you're right, not we've been unfair, Just the same tired
narrative they've used since we were little Alisia, the star
called her is the problem. It doesn't matter how many
clients I've helped or how successful my business is. In
their perspective, achievement is only meaningful if it occurs in

(09:42):
a courtroom or on a LinkedIn headline. I'm not jealous,
I responded quietly. I'm just tired of being treated like
the family tech support with no salary. She didn't answer.
I just said fine and then hung up, no goodbyes.
That night, I went to bed wearing the sweater she
previous mocked. I felt at ease, stress free, and confident

(10:03):
in my decision. The following morning, I awoke to commotion.
Screenshots are everywhere. Elisia's files were leaked, and not just
any file. We are not discussing contracts or legal memos.
We're talking about screenshots of affair conversations, personal messages, sexual content,
material with names and time stamps, and even a few
office illusions. Apparently she had been coaching one of her

(10:26):
clients too closely. My sister is married, so she was
having an affair. Suddenly every mutual connection started murmuring. The
group chat that I had left was silent. My mother
didn't call Elisia did not text, Nobody asked me for
assistance anymore. I sat at my desk, sipping cold coffee,
watching the action unfold, as if I were a spectator

(10:46):
at a game for which I had not purchased tickets.
I did not laugh, I did not post anything. I
quickly opened the notes app and scribbled three words. I
warned her, not directly or dramatically, but in every way
that counted. I told her months ago that her passwords
were lazy, that putting sensitive information in Google drive folders
labeled do not open one was not exactly fort Knox.

(11:09):
She rolled her eyes. They told me that not everyone
has to be a paranoid neckbeard. All good. Then her
crucial legal files were scattered, but not for the reasons
she claimed. It was not client contracts or secret firm information. Nope.
It became out that the hacked files included screenshots of
explicit messages between her and one of her married clients, texts, photographs,

(11:32):
and even a silly audio note in which she referred
to him as Daddy and joked about invoicing their amorous
conversations as consultancy hours professional correct. The screenshots included names,
time stamps, and her work email address in the corner.
She didn't even bother with a burner, just sheer ignorance
uploaded directly to the cloud. By lunchtime, they were everywhere.

(11:53):
Someone delivered them secretly to a private legal organization. Someone
else shared them in a group chat at her alma mater,
and of course it made its way into the local
legal gossip circuit. To make matters worse, one of the
texts included her legal firm's name. Let's keep this quiet.
My firm would flip if they saw this. Oh right,
what do you think? I sat at my work station

(12:15):
checking a dashboard for a client's e commerce back end
while seeing her reputation plummet in real time. My phone
vibrated several times, one from a high school friend, Yo,
is that your sister trending on legal mess Another? Didn't
she always call you unemployed? Yes, the same one. What
truly shocked me was how quickly it escalated. It wasn't

(12:35):
simply embarrassment, It was possible disbarment territory. Some others began
to speculate about who the person was and whether he
was a customer she represented. If it was, she may
have crossed ethical lines that go beyond Oopsie's own. Then
came the cherry on top. Some one revealed that she
was under internal review at her company for conduct related issues.
They were attempting to figure out how quickly they could

(12:57):
cut her free without catching any stray shrapnel. Approximately three
p m. I got the first actual message from her
since the whole thing started. Elisia, what did you do?
No Hi, no help, just an allegation. I stared at it.
The irony was amazing. She asked me to help her,
refused to pay, and now believes I shared screenshots from

(13:19):
her affair in retaliation. Nah, I'm not really bored. I
accomplished nothing, yet it is still more than you deserve.
I didn't even get a reply. She just sent a
status update on WhatsApp saying people will lie when they
feel threatened. Sure, you are the victim in this situation.
You are the victim. By the evening, her spouse had
gone into ghost mode, deleting his social media, removing their

(13:41):
wedding photos from his sight, and updating his bio to
simply say forward. It was the coldest move I'd seen
since someone angrily quit a Dota tournament. The guy was
known for his low key demeanor and dislike of controversy.
So witnessing him act as if she was dead to
him taught me everything I needed to know. She did
not make a simple mistake. She set fire to her
own house, expecting the rest of us to hold the hose.

(14:04):
And just when I thought everything was over, I received
a call from a burner number. I normally don't respond
to unknowns, but I was interested. It was her spouse.
Hey man, he replied, not trying to start anything. I
just I know you do tech stuff and I need
to know. Did you leak that? His voice sounded tired,
not angry, the type of tired you hear from people
who have been lied to in stereo. No, I informed him.

(14:28):
She came to me asking for help. I told her
I'd do it for a price. She refused. Then it leaked.
I had nothing to do with it. He was calm.
Then he said, I believe you. I just needed to
hear it. We didn't speak after that, but later that
night he posted a picture of their dog on Instagram
with the comment she got the law degree, I got

(14:49):
the better loyalty. That's pique, poetic justice, regardless of who
you are. Meanwhile, I kept working, since, unlike her, I
did have clients. I wasn't simply surviving. I was scaling.
I even had a local HVAC technician recommend me to
one of his company associates who need custom back end
work for scheduling installs. He said, I told him, you're
the guy who doesn't mess around. That single remark meant

(15:12):
more to me than everything my family had ever said.
The family group chat is still calm. Nobody reached out.
There is no damage control, even from mom. They must
have been occupied cleaning up the mess left by the
kid who claimed to have direction. Around midnight, I received
one final message from Alicia Beligia. You're loving this, aren't you.
I did not respond. I have recently archived the chat.

(15:36):
I wasn't enjoying it. I wasn't even celebrating. This was
not a win for me. It was simply another reminder
that the same individuals who had looked down on me
for years were now pleading for my assistance when things
became serious, and I have receipts to prove it. I
backed up all of her texts, sorted the time stamps,
and put them in a folder labeled in case of
blame game, because if I've learned anything about individuals like her,

(15:59):
it's that they don't take defeat lightly. They're looking for
someone to drag down with them. But this time I
wasn't near the blast zone. I'd spent years providing the
emotional safety net for everyone in that family, the guy
they'd criticize on Monday then turned to for assistance on Tuesday.
But not anymore. This time I was merely the man
watching everything burn from a safe, well insulated distance, complete

(16:21):
with receipts, backups and a protected folder labeled not my problem. Elicia.
Meantime was free falling. First, the law firm, Apparently the
moment the screenshots arrived in their inbox, they went into
full cya mode. Internally they referred to it as misconduct concerns. Externally,
there was radio silence, not even a pr ruse, just

(16:42):
a silent removal of her name from the firm's website,
as if she never existed. The clients come second. I
recognized one of them. He had attended a number of
her Look who I'm representing meals, which my parents were
oddly proud of a man who owned multiple homes and
hired aleisure for contract work. When the store he broke,
he removed his files and recruited someone else. He did

(17:03):
not even call to say goodbye. I just left a
review online that read unreliable, would not recommend. Then came
the personal breakdown. Her husband went into full ice mode,
changing the locks, taking the car, and, according to one
of my friends who still lives nearby, giving away her
peloton for free on Craigslist. And just when I thought
the worst was past, I had a tap on my door.

(17:25):
It was Mom and Dad. Now I live in a
modest apartment around fifteen minutes from their home. They rarely
pay a visit unless they need something or have run
out of individuals who will tolerate them. So when I
answered the door and found them standing there with that strange,
excessively friendly look, I realized it wasn't about catching up.
Can we talk? Mom inquired? I stood aside, sure, shoes off.

(17:49):
They sat stiffly, as if they were attending a parole officer.
Dad cleared his throat as if preparing to begin a
PowerPoint presentation. Your sister's going through a rough time, he
told you. I nodded, Yeah, apparently she's been going through
people too. Mom grimaced, called her please, She said I'd
be nothing. I reminded them that free lancing was code

(18:10):
for unemployment, that I was just lucky if someone needed
a cheap website, I remember that, do you. They alter
their posture. Neither made eye contact. We're not here to
relive old fights, Dad stated, in his usual bland tone.
We're here to ask for your assistance. I raised an eyebrow.
You mean the same help she refused to pay for.

(18:32):
There was silence. She's being investigated. The bar association might
get involved. She could lose her license. My mom warned.
She leaked her own affair texts. I explained, the only
thing I did was say no. She says you manipulated them,
my dad replied, I laughed loudly, the kind of laugh
that makes others uncomfortable. Then she should sue me. Oh wait,

(18:54):
she probably will. She's scared. Mom stated again, she should
have been scared before she hit send. I told her.
Then came the true reason why they were there. The
guilt was not working. As a result, they reverted to
their preferred strategy, manipulation through responsibility. We just need you
to clarify a few things, Dad explained, Digging into his folder.

(19:15):
He gave me a letter. It was previously signed by Elisia,
a written statement stating the screenshots were forgeries, maybe by
a family member who had access to her cloud credentials.
They wanted me to sign it too. I blinked, you're
asking me to admit I staged a scandal to ruin
my sister's life on paper. Dad nodded, as if he
were passing me a grocery list. It's just to calm

(19:37):
things down. No one's going to check the details. Mom
jumped in with arms folded. You don't even have a
reputation to protect Calder. She does be reasonable, They were
staring at me. You're actually saying I have nothing to lose.
She's a lawyer, My mother replied. She built something you
work from your laptop. You could recover. That is the

(19:59):
dumbest logic I've ever heard. I responded, You want me
to lie so she can keep pretending to be better
than me. We're not asking you to lie. Dad explained,
we're asking you to support your sister. I laughed again,
this is support. You want me to burn myself to
keep her warm. You always twist things. Mom exclaimed, this

(20:20):
is why no one takes you seriously. You act like
the world owes you something just because you didn't get
enough attention as a child. I stood up, you can
take the letter and leave. You can take Dad frowned
as if I had failed a spelling bee. You're being emotional, no,
I replied, I'm being done. Mom grabbed her purse as

(20:41):
if it particularly offended her. I hope you're happy when
she loses everything. She lost it the second she treated
me like trash and expected me to play janitor. They
walked out, stiff, mumbling right as the door closed. Dad added,
you've always had a chip on your shoulder. I reopened it. Yeah,
and it's gotten me farther than your approval ever did.

(21:03):
That night, I received a text from Alisia, Elisia, you
always wanted to watch me fall. You finally got your wish.
I didn't respond. Instead, I opened an email from a
new client, a property manager seeking back end assistance for
a housing site. He claimed he found me through a
referral from a real estate agent. Heard you're the guy

(21:23):
who gets things done without the drama. I accepted the deal.
The next morning, I received an unexpected DM on LinkedIn
from someone I hadn't communicated with in years, her former
law school roommate. Hey don't know if you heard, but
Alicia's been suspended. Word is she's blaming you? There it was.
I had been expecting it, the pivot, the scapegoat maneuver.

(21:45):
She did not merely fall. She needed to take someone
with her, and because I was the one who said no,
I became the antagonist in her little courtroom drama. That afternoon,
I received another mail from a company Elisia had applied
to before all of this. Their hiring manager had watched
the situation online and contacted me immediately. Would you be
willing to consult with us instead? We'd love to work

(22:07):
with someone reliable. I said yes. The new client was
clean cut, professional and unconcerned about the noise. We saw
your code samples and the feedback from elm Creek Realty.
He remarked, over zoom, you're clearly the guy for the job.
That was it. There's no drama, no digging, just respect.
But while I was troubleshooting their tenant portal, Alesia was

(22:29):
on a different mission, damage control through deflection. The official
legal notice arrived in my mailbox three days later, subject
Cease and desist notice, of intent to take legal action.
My immediate reaction was to laugh so hard I almost
knocked over my coffee. The document was a poorly formatted
PDF with her firm's letterhead, most likely a remnant from

(22:50):
her office, and it was full of legal jargons strung
together like it came from a template generator. It still
had the Microsoft word formatting lines visible, indicating that she
saved it in a hurry and forgot to export clean,
real professional stuff from someone attempting to rebuild her reputation.
She was suing me for defamation, intentional emotional distress, and
get this malicious sabotage of professional reputation. I scrolled to

(23:14):
the bottom. The claim damages totaled one hundred twenty thousand dollars. Yep,
she attempted to sue me for six figures because she
felt ashamed and wanted someone else to wear it. I
sent the document to my attorney, a kind guy named Bramwell,
who I've worked with for years. Dudes built like a
bouncer and speaks like a barista. He read it and
then sent me a voice memo that began bro and finished,

(23:37):
We're going to eat her alive. We issued a formal response,
rejected everything and moved to dismiss with prejudice. I've attached
a neatly named folder containing screenshots of her pleading for aid,
her refusing to pay, her admitting it was urgent, my refusal,
and her later accusation of me. We also shared metadata
logs that proved I never accessed her files. Because I didn't,

(23:58):
I couldn't have spilled something i'd know touched. What made
it even better was that her Google Drive folder was unlocked.
It was shared with a total of three persons, none
of them is me. But guess who was on the list? Yep,
the guy she was having consulting our pillow conversation with
his personal Gmail. Is as plain as day. That alone
invalidated her entire case. If it was leaked, it was

(24:20):
either her or her male toy. I wasn't even inside
the building, let alone the suspect lineup. The court date
is two weeks away at the time. I did not
respond to her. I did not communicate with my parents either.
Mom tried to call. Once I declined, she responded with
a passive aggressive reply, You're blowing this out of proportion.

(24:40):
Families don't sue each other, know However, it appears that
they try to frame each other when it suits their tail.
I arrived early in the morning for the hearing, not
because I was anxious, I just wanted a decent seat
at the circus. Alisia was already present, sitting stiffly alongside
a junior associate I had never met before. I guess
the firm did and want their name associated with this crap.

(25:02):
I'm guessing she found someone green or broken enough to
take on her case. In any case, he appeared to
be practicing law between door dash shifts. Anyway, she appeared
to have not slept in a week, dark circles, flat expression,
like reality had finally hit her in the face, and
she wasn't sure whether to cry or pretend it didn't
hurt her. Lawyer began the court with a dramatic re

(25:23):
enactment of Elsia's alleged reputation assassination, claiming that I had
expert access to her devices, that I purposefully twisted private
conversations to incriminate her, and that I had a personal
hatred stemming from childhood. Jealously, I nearly choked. Dude was
reading from a screenplay as if this were suits. Then
Bramwell got up. No manipulation occurred, He stated flatly. What

(25:45):
happened was that the plaintiff kept sexual damning content in
a shared cloud folder with no encryption or password precautions,
and then attempted to shift the blame onto the defendant,
who refused to help her for free. He has produced
paperwork proving she sought for assistance, refused payment, and then
blamed him when the leak occurred. Then he brought us
our receipts, which included time stamps, metadata, emails logs, and

(26:07):
a complete list of the IP addresses that accessed her
Google drive, none of which matched mine. But do you
know who did match? Her affair partners. When Bramwell pointed
it out, Alisia turned pale. Her lawyer attempted to pivot.
I claimed I might have directed someone else to disclose it.
The judge responded, do you have any evidence of that? No,

(26:28):
your honor, but the timing is circumstantial. Move on. I
almost gave Bramwell a high five in court. When it
was Elisia's turn to speak, she delivered an unconvincing speech
about treachery and my own brother turning on me. It
was like seeing a student who had not studied try
to give a presentation based on the Wikipedia synopsis. The
judge eventually leaned forward and stared directly at her. You

(26:50):
didn't file a case. You filed a personal vendetta dressed
up as a legal complaint. That's not justice. That's weaponizing
the court system to clean up your own men. And
we don't play that game here. You should know this,
since you were a lawyer. Boom case was dismissed with prejudice.
This meant she couldn't refile, try again, or take me

(27:11):
through another round of crap. It was over. I did
not gloat, I did not smirk. I simply stood up,
nodded to Bramwell, and walked out, as if I had
better things to do, which I had. That night, I
shared a photo on my business Facebook. I'm just standing
in front of my laptop, middle finger taped down to
hold up a cup of coffee. Caption unemployed gamer, lawsuit survivor.

(27:34):
The schedule is full, make an advance booking. It was
not petty. Okay, maybe so, but it was also a flex,
a well deserved one. The remarks came in quickly, tell
us the story King hire this man before he's too expensive.
Even better, one of my former professors from a boot
camp program stopped by. Knew you had it in you

(27:55):
let him talk. You're building while they're blaming. The next day,
U you shared something strange on her social media, a
black and white quotation image. Sometimes those closest to you
strike the deepest. There's no name or context, just pure
victim mode. It received four likes. Mom contacted me again.
You embarrassed her in public. Was it really worth it?

(28:18):
I responded, She sued me. I just showed up with
the truth. No response. Business continued to increase. More referrals
came in. Bramwell even added me to a development contract
with another firm. He represents small but dependable clients, good individuals.
They viewed me as a builder, not a failure. Meanwhile,

(28:38):
Elisia remained silent. I heard she'd moved out of her condo,
sold all her expensive handbags online, and was taking time
for her mental health, which, by the way, take all
the time you need, but don't pretend you're mending when
you were swinging a knife the week before. That chapter
was finished, but the narrative did not end there. For
achievement is loud, even when whispered, I didn't have to

(28:59):
rub anything in. I did not go about posting side
by side images of court filings and the meme that
began at all. I did not dunk on her, linked
in or tagger in motivational comeback quotes. I simply worked
quietly and efficiently. And the louder they were with damage
control and excuses, the more attention fell on me. Two
weeks following the court victory, I signed three more clients.

(29:20):
One was a referral from Bramwell, the second was from
a person who saw my humorous post and remarked, anyone
who survives a law suit and still delivers clean code
is worth hiring. And the third was just random. Some
real estate agency on the other side of the state.
Apparently their internal tech person had left following a crash
and they wanted someone to clean things up quickly. I

(29:41):
have it running in forty eight hours. They sent me
a testimonial that basically said professional, no drama, no excuses.
Would hire again. Immediately. That review prompted four additional inquiries.
I hired a part time employee to help me with
the overflow. He was still at school rough around the edges,
but hungry, reminded me of myself, minus the chip on

(30:01):
his shoulder. I liked that. Then it occurred, a knock
on my door. Again. I already knew before I opened it.
I stood there for a second, peering at the door,
thinking do I really want to hear this to day?
But curiosity triumphed. I cracked it open. Mom and Dad
round two, But this time they appeared different. Not furious

(30:24):
or desperate, just embarrassed. Dad's normal confidence had deflated into
the stiff, hands in pockets pose he adopted when he
neglected to pay the water bill when I was thirteen.
Mom wore sunglasses indoors classic. Can we come in? She inquired,
her voice low didn't work out with Alicia. Huh, I asked,
no response. I stood aside. They did not sit down

(30:47):
right away. They just hovered, as if waiting for me
to give food or make light talk. I did not.
Dad eventually cleared his throat. We just wanted to talk.
I leaned against the countertop, talking's free, just making that
clear up front. Mom sighed, we're struggling a bit. I
didn't say anything, just raised my eyebrows. We've been helping

(31:09):
Elisia out, she said, as if I hadn't guessed. She's
been through a lot, Dad explained, still in justification mode,
and after everything that happened with the firm, she's well,
She's not exactly bouncing back. She was living with us
for a while, Mom explained, but she needed her own
space again, so we helped her get an apartment. I

(31:29):
tilted my head. Your golden child needed your help getting
a place to live. Thought she was rebuilding her empire.
She's trying, Mom said, but she can't get work. No
one will hire her right now. I remained quiet, allow
it to breathe. This always made them uncomfortable. Then came
the punch we were hoping. Dad whispered that maybe you

(31:52):
could help just a little. She's not asking directly, obviously,
but you know how hard things have been. Let me
stop you right there. I told you you want me
to give her money, They paused. Mom tried again, just
a small loan. We know you're doing well now you
have your own business. It wouldn't be much, and you
think that makes this okay? I inquired. You laughed when

(32:15):
she called me unemployed, You backed her up when she
tried to drag me through court. You accused me of
sabotaging her, and now, because I didn't crash like she did,
I owe her. It's not about owing. Dad replied immediately,
it's about family. I chuckled. Right now, I'm family again.
Not when you needed a signature to save her bar license,

(32:37):
not when I was building my business from nothing, but
now that you need cash. Now I'm back in the club.
Mom's voice increased, called her, don't do this. We've had
our differences, yes, but Elisia is still your sister and
we're still your parents. Yes you are, I answered, and
I remember exactly how you acted when she was on top.
I remember how many times I got ignored, dismissed, laughed at.

(33:01):
You never believed in what I was doing. You thought
coding was a phase. You thought freelancing meant lazy. You
never saw me as anything but the backup plan. You're
twisting this into something it's not your Dad responded, We
didn't mean any harm. You just didn't think i'd make it,
I explained. Following that, there was a loud silence. I
went over to the tiny table beside the entryway and

(33:23):
grabbed a manila envelope inside her a copy of Elisia's lawsuit,
the court's dismissal decision, and my most recent business registration
documents for tax season. I handed it to them. What's this?
Mom inquired proof, I said, of where I've been, of
what I built, since you didn't seem to notice before

(33:44):
she opened it, looked inside and set it down without
saying anything, I'm not giving her a cent, I said,
and I'm not giving you one either. You made your choices,
you backed the wrong horse. Don't act surprised now that
she can't carry you. That's unfair. Dad yelled, No, it's math,
I replied. You invested everything in her emotionally, financially, publicly,

(34:07):
and when I succeeded, you weren't proud. You were quiet,
So keep that same energy now. They did not argue
after that. They just stood there awkwardly, as if they
were hoping that if they looked pathetic enough I would reconsider.
Eventually they left, didn't even properly close the door. I
had to walk over and close it myself. By spring,

(34:27):
everything she previously boasted about had vanished. The bar suspension
became permanent. Quietly, there was no news statement or appeal,
just a stripped title and a notation on the official
website license deactivated due to ethics violations. No firm would
touch her after that, even the one where she interned
removed her from the alumni list. The Whisper Networks did

(34:47):
not forget either. Everyone chatted, including lawyers, clients, and recruiters.
Not loud or public, but loud enough to close every
door before she could knock. She tried pivoting, consultancy and
strategic coaching. Nothing stuck. People used Google. They witnessed the
screen shots, the court proceedings, and her effort to blame
her own brother. That type of discoloration does not wash away.

(35:10):
She moved again, smaller and less centralized. No more coffee
balcony images, no more thriving captions, just silence. Her pals
have stopped tagging her. The mutuals unfollowed. Those who had
before said your sister's killing, It now said nothing, And
the silence was the loudest part. The lawsuit she filed
against me was not simply dismissed. It followed her every

(35:34):
firm she applied. It regarded her record as frivolous, personal,
and desperate. It explained everything they needed to know. She
never reached out again. Neither did my parents. I did
not require an apology. I simply needed space. When people
ask what occurred between us, I make things simple. She
staked everything on being better than me. I just kept building.