I remembered opening the restaurant before sunrise while the streets were still dark. I remembered hauling heavy produce through rainstorms because Victor refused to pay delivery fees. I remembered standing beside scorching ovens until my skin burned and my muscles trembled from exhaustion.

Meanwhile, Victor greeted customers in the dining room, shaking hands and proudly calling himself a self-made businessman. To the public, he was the face of success. Behind the scenes, I was the one keeping everything running.

The judge finally turned toward me. “Mrs. Hale?”

Victor leaned back with a smirk. “Go ahead, Evelyn. Tell everyone how mopping floors somehow made you a restaurant owner-