The class ooh-ed and ahh-ed. Jason smirked, scanning the room for approval, his eyes lingering on me with that cold, dead-eyed stare bullies perfect by age twelve.

“My mom owns the largest real estate firm in the county,” Sarah Jenkins chirped next, holding up a literal gold-plated “SOLD” sign. “She says land is the only thing that matters.”

Round and round it went. Doctors, lawyers, engineers, hedge fund managers. We lived in a wealthy suburb outside of D.C., a place where power was measured in square footage and job titles.

Then, it was my turn.

“Emily? You’re up,” Mrs. Gable said, checking her watch. She looked bored. She wanted this over with so she could get back to her crossword puzzle.