Chapter 8 - VGlow
Amara began looking at VGlow differently.
The ring light in Vanessa’s office.
The expensive camera.
The marble-print desk.
The boxes of branded packaging.
The professional headshots.
Until now, they had simply belonged to Vanessa’s business.
Now every object seemed to carry a question.
That night, Vanessa hosted a livestream from the living room.
“Confidence isn’t vanity,” she told nearly four thousand followers. “It’s refusing to apologize for taking up space.”
Amara stood unseen in the hallway.
Vanessa smiled into the camera.
“And I’m teaching my daughter the same thing.”
Amara nearly laughed.
Instead she returned upstairs.
Jada had sent screenshots.
VGlow’s launch date.
Nine months ago.
Corporate filing records were public.
The same date as the $4,800 withdrawal.
Coincidence was still possible.
But Amara wanted records.
The next morning she called David Rosen again.
“I found a withdrawal receipt.”
His tone changed.
“How did you obtain it?”
“It was among my mother’s belongings that she told a store to discard. My name is on it.”
“Do not access accounts without authorization.”
“I didn’t.”
“Good.”
“It says educational expenses.”
“Did you have expenses in that amount?”
“No.”
David was silent.
“Amara, because you’re a minor, this gets complicated. Is there another trusted adult?”
“My aunt.”
“Consider involving her.”
“What happens if the money wasn’t used for me?”
“That can create legal obligations for a custodian. Potentially serious ones.”
“Would my mom get arrested?”
“I’m not saying that.”
Amara closed her eyes.
Despite everything, the idea frightened her.
“I don’t want to destroy her.”
“Then don’t decide the ending before you know the facts.”
That sentence stayed with Amara.
That afternoon, Aunt Renee met her at a coffee shop.
Amara showed her the receipt.
Renee became very quiet.
“You knew about VGlow?”
“Of course.”
“Did Mom have startup money?”
Renee rubbed her forehead.
“She told me she got a small business loan.”
“Did she?”
“I never saw documents.”
“Could Grandma’s money have gone into it?”
Renee looked toward the window.
“There was an argument.”
“When?”
“A year ago.”
“About what?”
“Your mother asked me whether Mom had left anything else that could be accessed.”
Amara’s pulse quickened.
“What did you say?”
“I told her no.”
“Why did she need money?”
“Vanessa had credit-card debt.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know.”
Renee paused.
“More than she admitted.”
Amara thought of vacations.
Designer purses.
Beauty treatments.
Everything photographed.
Everything presented as evidence that Vanessa Lewis was thriving.
“What happened?”
“She said VGlow would fix everything.”
“Did it?”
“I don’t know.”
Renee leaned forward.
“Amara, your mother has spent most of her adult life terrified that people will see her struggling.”
“That doesn’t excuse stealing.”
“No.”
Renee’s answer came firmly.
“It does not.”
Amara appreciated that more than sympathy.
Renee looked at the receipt.
“If Vanessa used your money, she needs to put it back.”
“What if she can’t?”
Renee didn’t answer.
Amara understood.
Later that evening, Vanessa knocked on Amara’s door.
Her tone was unexpectedly gentle.
“I ordered your favorite food.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“We can start over.”
Amara looked at her.
“With what?”
“Prom.”
Vanessa smiled.
“I found another dress.”
She held up her phone.
A shimmering silver gown filled the screen.
“It would photograph beautifully beside red.”
Amara stared at her.
“Beside your red dress?”
Vanessa’s smile faltered.
“I thought we could fix this.”
Amara understood then.
Vanessa did want reconciliation.
But only if reconciliation preserved the picture she wanted.
Amara turned back to her homework.
“No.”
Behind her, Vanessa whispered, “You are becoming very ungrateful.”
May you like
![92 The Girl They Called Broke Was a Billionaire’s Daughter—But Her Father’s Arrival Exposed a Secret Powerful People Had Buried for Years]](https://cdn.treeiq.biz/site_590/2026/11/clone-0-0915d882-53d7-4d17-b43a-a010ca1a1068.webp)
Amara did not respond.
For the first time, that word no longer worked.
