Pity From My Rich Sister? Oops, Her New Family Came Begging Chapter 05

Pity From My Rich Sister? Oops, Her New Family Came Begging Chapter 05

Ambrose Kincaid stopped in front of me and inclined his head, his manner unusually deferential.

“Dr. Calder, please forgive me for keeping you waiting.”

The entire ballroom froze.

The silence was absolute.

My mother finally found her voice.

“Mr. Kincaid, are you sure you have the right person?”

She pointed at me.

“That’s Carys. She only went to community college.”

Rhodes hurried down from the stage, shock written across his face.

“Grandpa, are you sure? That’s Carys. Elodie said she was barely getting by in Aldercrest.”

“Enough.”

Ambrose struck his cane against the marble floor. The sharp crack cut through the room.

“Do any of you have the slightest idea who she is?”

No one answered.

His voice carried across the ballroom.

“Dr. Carys Calder earned her PhD in biomedical engineering from the Aldercrest Institute of Technology. She received one of the country’s most prestigious early-career research awards and became one of the youngest principal investigators in her field.”

“She is a leading authority in neural-signal decoding, holds seventeen U.S. and international patents, and owns the core algorithm Kincaid Industries has spent two years trying to develop.”

For one suspended second, no one moved.

Then the room erupted.

Every gaze turned back to me, but the contempt was gone.

Now there was shock, admiration, and something close to awe.

Phones appeared across the ballroom. Camera flashes followed.

The balding produce distributor who had asked for my number quietly stepped backward into the crowd.

The other man lifted his glass and drained it, his ears burning red.

A guest near the back nudged the person beside him.

“Wait. I know her. She was on the cover of a Nature Portfolio journal last month. How did I not recognize her?”

“Why would you? The bride kept saying her sister had an associate degree and barely made enough

to live on. Even if she looked familiar, no one would’ve made the connection.”

“And those men actually tried to give her their numbers.”

“Someone called her stuck-up for refusing. At her level, why would she entertain any of this?”

The side doors opened.

A middle-aged man in a tailored gray suit strode into the ballroom with two assistants behind him.

He scanned the crowd, spotted me, and headed straight over.

Someone nearby whispered in disbelief.

“That’s Vaughn Pell from Northglass Ventures.”

“What is one of the biggest names in East Coast venture capital doing here?”

Vaughn reached me and offered his card.

“Dr. Calder, Northglass has backed three neural-interface startups, and every one of them has hit

the same algorithmic wall. Whenever you have time, my team will come to Aldercrest. Name the

day.”

I accepted the card with a polite smile.

Before he could say more, a woman made her way over from across the room.

“Dr. Calder, I’m Eudora Winslow, president of the Port Cresswell Chamber of Commerce. May I

have your contact information?”

Then came another executive.

And another.

“Dr. Calder, Ansel Vey from Graymire Therapeutics.”

“Dr. Calder, Peregrine Capital would love to schedule a meeting.”

Business cards filled my hands.

People who had barely noticed me minutes ago now crowded around, eager for an introduction.

My mother stood rooted to the floor, her mouth opening and closing without a sound.

Onstage, Elodie still held the microphone.

Her fingers tightened around it until her knuckles turned white.