Chapter 2

2 Six years later.

I opened a small IT training studio in Austin. It wasn't big, but it was enough to feed the four of us.

The three kids and I lived in the apartment above the studio.

It was a tiny space with three bunk beds. Every morning at six, their alarms went off like a miniature symphony.

My eldest son, Henry, is six. He knows five programming languages.

A month ago, he complained the Wi-Fi was too slow and hacked into the coffee shop next door.

He changed their admin permissions, and the owner still thinks it’s a service provider glitch.

I dragged him to the shop to apologize. The owner just patted his head and said he was a genius.

I didn't have the heart to tell him that Henry had already generated an automated optimization plan for the shop's profit reports.

My second son, Hunter, has the most ridiculous physical stamina for a six-year-old.

Last month at the kindergarten sports day, he swept the gold medals in sprinting, long jump, and tug-of-war.

During the tug-of-war, he was up against four older kids and two teachers.

He dragged all six of them across the line by himself.

The principal looked at me with a very complicated expression. “Mrs. Vance... is your child... normal?”

The youngest is my daughter, Serenity. She’s the only one named after me.

Three talent agencies have already handed her their business cards.

Last week, she improvised a walk in the mall, mimicking a lady passing by.

A talent scout chased her for three blocks. I had to threaten to call the police.

“Aren't you being too flashy?” I asked her.

“Mom, that lady’s posture was wrong. Leaning forward like that causes spinal issues,” she replied.

“I only did it to show you―your back hurts, right? You walk exactly like her.”

I was stunned. I was being corrected on my gait by a six-year-old.

Yesterday, Dominic Sterling’s company was hacked.

It was my son’s doing.