On my thirtieth birthday, my mother-in-law raised a toast with the words: «To our silly girl from a poor family who lives off our money», and my husband started laughing loudly at that. Then my father stood up from the table and did something that made my mother-in-law freeze in place…

I looked at myself in the mirror and didn’t recognize myself: a beautiful, groomed woman with perfect makeup and empty eyes. Where did that lively, sincere girl I once was go? My parents were ready too.

Mom in a modest but elegant dark green dress, Dad in a new suit they bought especially for this occasion. «You look great, Dad,» I said, adjusting his tie. «Thanks, daughter,» he smiled, decided to match the event’s level.

In his eyes, I saw a mix of pride and worry. Pride in me, and worry that my shiny social position might not be as happy as it seemed from the outside. Kyle called two cars, one for us with him, the second for my parents.

«It’ll be more convenient this way,» he explained. But I knew the real reason; he just didn’t want to ride in the same car with my simple parents. The Bellagio restaurant shone with lights; at the entrance, waiters greeted us with trays of champagne; guests had already started arriving, mostly colleagues and friends of the Harringtons.

I saw my parents stop a bit confused at the entrance, not knowing where to go. Mom, Dad, I approached them, taking a glass of champagne from the tray. «Come, I’ll show you your seats.»

For my parents, I specially chose a table next to ours so they wouldn’t feel cut off from the center of events, like at the wedding. Valerie, seeing this, pursed her lips but said nothing. Guests arrived one after another; I stood at the entrance with Kyle, accepting congratulations and gifts.

Most guests I knew only superficially: my father-in-law’s business partners, my mother-in-law’s friends, distant relatives. But there were also my friends, a few classmates I kept in touch with, two colleagues from the magazine where I once worked. When all the guests gathered, the banquet began; the emcee, a well-known showman in the city, announced the start of the celebration; congratulations, toasts, musical numbers flowed; everything was organized with the typical Harrington grandeur.

I sat at the central table, between Kyle and his father. Victor, as usual, was taciturn, occasionally nodding to the music, politely applauding the performers, but spending most of the time scrolling through something on his phone. Valerie, on the contrary, was in her element, moving from table to table, chatting with guests, laughing loudly at the emcee’s jokes, periodically approaching us, leaning toward Kyle and whispering something in his ear.

After the third toast, I noticed Dad looked pale. «Dad, are you okay?» I asked, approaching their table. Yes, don’t worry, he smiled weakly, it’s just stuffy in here.

«Maybe go out to the terrace, get some fresh air?» Good idea, I’ll go for a couple of minutes. I watched him go, feeling growing anxiety. Lately, his health had noticeably worsened, though he tried not to show it.

Kyle, noticing my worry, approached me. «What’s wrong?» «Dad’s not feeling well; he went out for air.» «Nothing,» Kyle waved carelessly, «he’ll get some fresh air and come back.

Come on, your dance is next.» I returned to the table, but my thoughts were with Dad. At that moment, the emcee announced it was time for the special dance of the birthday girl with her husband.

Kyle led me to the center of the hall; slow music played, and we twirled in the dance. «Smile,» Kyle whispered, holding me by the waist. Everyone’s watching us.

I obediently stretched my lips into a smile, thinking about how fake everything in my life had become; even in such a seemingly intimate moment as a dance with my husband, the main thing wasn’t our feelings, but the impression we made on others. After the dance, the parade of congratulations began.

One after another, guests came to the microphone, said warm words, presented gifts; most speeches sounded obligatory, insincere. They talked about my beauty, my successful marriage, how lucky I was to become part of the Harrington family. Finally, it was Kyle’s parents’ turn.

Victor stood up, took the microphone, and delivered a short but flowery speech. «Paula,» he said at the end, «you’re a worthy wife to our son. I wish you health, beauty, and finally, to delight us with grandchildren.»

I smiled politely, used to such hints. Valerie looked expectantly at her husband, clearly waiting for him to pass her the microphone, but Victor, finishing his speech, simply returned to his seat. This clearly wasn’t part of my mother-in-law’s plans.

She stood up herself, resolutely headed to the center of the hall, and took the microphone from the emcee. «Dear friends,» she began, scanning the hall, «today we have a celebration, the 30th birthday of our daughter-in-law Paula, a beautiful date, a beautiful girl.» The hall murmured approvingly.

Someone shouted, «Kiss!» Valerie smiled with that smile that never reached her eyes. «Yes, yes, a kiss will definitely happen, but first I want to say a few words.»

I felt everything inside me tense; something in her tone, in her gaze, suggested that something unpleasant was about to happen. Paula joined our family 8 years ago, a simple girl from an ordinary family. Who would have thought then that she would fit into our circle so successfully.

Laughter ran through the hall; I saw Mom tense up, sitting at the neighboring table. Over these years, she’s learned a lot, become a real Harrington: elegant, presentable, though no children yet, but let’s hope it’s temporary. Another laugh; I felt my face flush with color, and today I want to raise a toast to our Paula, to our silly girl from a poor family who lives off our money.

Silence hung in the hall; I looked at Valerie, not believing my ears. Kyle next to me suddenly laughed loudly, and his laughter sounded especially insulting in this silence. And then something happened that no one expected.

My father, who had just returned from the terrace, slowly rose from his seat. Pale but determined, he headed to the center of the hall where Valerie stood with a glass in her hand. «Dad,» I wanted to stop him, but he was already walking, back straight, with an expression on his face I’d never seen before.

The hall fell silent; all eyes were on my father, a simple factory engineer, resolutely walking to the center of the luxurious restaurant, to the microphone still held by Valerie. My mother-in-law stood with a frozen smile, clearly not understanding what was happening. When my father approached her closely, she involuntarily stepped back.

«Excuse me,» Dad said calmly, but steel rang in his voice, «may I have the microphone?» Valerie handed it to him in confusion, finding no words to refuse. Dad took the microphone and turned to the hall; his face was pale but calm. I noticed Mom half-standing from her seat, clearly worried about his health.

«Good evening, dear guests,» Dad began. My name is Nicholas, I’m Paula’s father, whom you’re congratulating on her anniversary today. I held my breath.

What would he say, would he cause a scene? I knew Dad as a calm, restrained person, but now, after such an insult, he had every right to anger. I would like to say a few words about my daughter, Dad continued, about the Paula I know, not the one Valerie just described. The hall was silent; Kyle next to me tensed, clearly ready to intervene if Dad’s speech went in the wrong direction.

Victor finally tore himself away from his phone and watched the proceedings with interest. «My daughter is not a silly girl,» Dad’s voice was firm. She graduated university with honors, worked at a prestigious magazine, had career prospects, but chose family, your family, Harringtons.

Valerie paled; she clearly didn’t expect this turn of events. As for poverty, Dad smiled slightly, it’s all relative. Of course, my wife and I never had money like the Harrington family; we’re simple working people, I’m an engineer, my wife a teacher; we don’t drive expensive cars, don’t vacation at elite resorts, but we’ve never been poor.

He paused, scanning the hall. We gave our daughter the most important things: education and the understanding that human dignity isn’t measured by the thickness of a wallet; we taught her to be honest, hardworking, to respect people regardless of their social status. And I’m proud of the person my Paula has become.

I felt tears welling up in my eyes; Kyle looked at me with an incomprehensible expression, a mix of surprise and confusion. And lastly, Dad turned to Valerie, about the money; my daughter never lived off your money, Valerie; she lived with your son, created a home for him, supported him in all his endeavors; that’s called family, not dependency. My mother-in-law stood as if petrified; her face expressed such shock as if she’d been slapped.

Now, Dad handed the microphone to the emcee. «I would like to return to celebrating my daughter’s birthday. Paula, happy anniversary, Mom and I love you very much.» He turned to leave but suddenly stopped, swayed, and clutched his heart; sharp pain reflected on his face.

«Dad,» I rushed to him, seeing him pale before my eyes. He tried to say something but couldn’t utter a word; his knees buckled, and he began to sink to the floor. «Call an ambulance!» I shouted, supporting Dad; he’s having heart trouble.

Chaos erupted in the hall; someone rushed to the phone, someone tried to help. Mom ran up to us, her face distorted with horror. «Nicholas, hold on!» she whispered, stroking his face.

«The ambulance is coming.» Dad lay on the floor, his breathing heavy, uneven. I held his hand, feeling it grow cold.

Paula, he whispered with effort, «Sorry for ruining your party.» «Don’t say silly things, Dad,» I squeezed his hand, «you didn’t ruin anything; you’re the best father in the world.» Kyle stood nearby, confused and pale.

«The ambulance is on its way,» he said. «Hold on, Nicholas.» Valerie stepped aside, clearly not knowing how to react to what was happening.

Victor approached us and knelt next to Dad. «I know a good cardiologist,» he said. «I’ll call him now; let them meet the ambulance at the hospital.»

I looked at my father-in-law in surprise. This gesture seemed so uncharacteristic of him that I didn’t know how to react. The ambulance arrived in 10 minutes, which felt like an eternity to me.

The medics quickly assessed Dad’s condition, hooked up a heart monitor, set up an IV. Their faces were serious, movements quick and precise. «Heart attack,» one of the doctors said, «need to get to the hospital urgently.»

Dad was loaded onto a stretcher and wheeled to the exit. I walked beside, holding his hand. «I’ll go with him,» I said to Mom, who followed, quietly crying.

Me too, she wiped her tears. When the ambulance left, taking my parents, I stood at the restaurant entrance. The party was hopelessly ruined, but that was the last thing on my mind….