“Ladies and gentlemen,” my father Donald’s voice boomed from the podium, his silver hair perfectly coiffed, his expression a carefully curated mix of resignation and disappointment. “I’d like to say a few words about my daughter, Bethany.”

My stomach plummeted. I saw Tamara smirk behind her champagne glass.

“Bethany has always been… unique,” he began. “While her sisters focused on their careers and achievements, Bethany chose a different path. A… simpler path.