Growing up, Emma’s parents had a dream they never let her forget: they wanted to climb the social ladder, no matter what it took. Their home in a pristine suburb was a constant reminder of their ambition. Her father often joked about living in a mansion one day, but his tone always carried a hint of seriousness.

“One day, Emma,” he’d say, straightening his tie in the mirror, “we’ll live in a house so grand you’ll need a map just to find the kitchen.”
“And you’ll marry someone who can help us get there,” her mother added, her laugh like the clinking of fine crystal.

As a child, Emma played along, imagining a castle with grand ballrooms and gardens. But by high school, she understood her parents were dead serious. They weren’t just dreaming of wealth—they were chasing it, and she was expected to play her part.
Emma’s mother scrutinized her friendships with a sharp eye, often judging her classmates based on their parents’ wealth. When Emma brought a classmate named Bianca over to work on a school project, her mother’s reaction was immediate.