My Sister Got A $10k House Down Payment. I Got “Maybe Start Small For Now?” I Smiled And Left. I Didn’t Tell Them When I Bought My First Property. Or My Second. Or My Fifth. Then Mom Looked Up My Name Online AND SUDDENLY…

“You’re not mad?”

“Why would I be? She told you she wanted someone ambitious.” I smirked. “Guess she finally found me.”

Ethan laughed so hard he nearly dropped his phone.

The tension passed like a ghost. But something about that moment lingered. It wasn’t jealousy.

It was realization. The people who used to dismiss me were starting to live in my orbit without even knowing it. Spring came early that year, and so did opportunity.

A small cottage near the hiking trails hit the market for $88,000. I ran the numbers. Short-term rental potential, steady seasonal demand.

I furnished it with $6,000 worth of IKEA, Facebook Marketplace, and pure optimism. Within 3 days of listing, my Airbnb calendar was full. By June, that house alone was pulling in $200 a month.

I stared at the spreadsheet, did the math twice. $400 plus $380 plus $2,100 EOS, $2,880 gross. After expenses, reserves, and repairs, about $1,800 profit monthly.

I’d built something real, something that didn’t depend on applause or family approval or anyone else’s permission. Then came Kayla’s birthday barbecue, the one I couldn’t skip. Dad’s old friend, Robert, a commercial real estate investor, was there.

We shook hands, chatted lightly. He asked what I did. “I manage properties,” I said.

“Yours or others?” he asked curious. “A bit of both,” I said carefully. Dad overheard.

His expression shifted. Confusion, suspicion, maybe pride, maybe fear. “Leah’s experimenting with a few side things,” he said quickly, as if translating me into something smaller.

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