Chapter 4 - The Viral Avalanche
By Saturday night, the digital world had completely exploded.
Maya’s video had crossed four million views, shared by beauty influencers, dermatologists, and everyday women tired of carrying five different foundation bottles.
The comment section was a roaring avalanche of frantic demands:
“Where can I buy this?!”
“Take my money right now!”
“Is there a website?! Please tell me this is real!”
Sitting in the laundromat's back room, Mrs. Kim and I watched the numbers tick upward on my cheap smartphone until the screen froze from notification lag.
"We have a slight supply-chain problem, Lily," Mrs. Kim said, tapping her calculator with a dry chuckle.
"We have three thousand direct pre-order requests in your email inbox, and exactly four ounces of jojoba ester left in the cellar."
"We need a manufacturer, Mrs. Kim," I said, pacing across the linoleum floor.
"A real laboratory with sterile cleanrooms and automated batch mixers."
"Real laboratories require fifty-thousand-dollar production retainers, child," she noted gently. "We have four hundred dollars and a dream."
Before I could answer, the bell above the laundry door chimed with a frantic, repeated clatter.
I pushed through the swinging door, expecting a late-night customer with an overflowing laundry hamper.
Standing in the lobby, dripping wet from the evening drizzle, was my half-sister Brooke.
She wore her high school varsity track jacket over pajamas, her face pale, her eyes red and puffy from crying.
"Brooke!" I cried, running across the tiles and pulling her into my arms.
Brooke buried her face in my shoulder, sobbing so violently that her breath hitched in ragged gasps.
"Lily! Oh God, Lily, I'm so sorry!" Brooke wept, holding onto my sweater like a lifeline.
"I tried to call you! Dad wouldn't let me use the car! I had to take the city bus across town!"
"What happened? Are you okay?" I asked, pulling back to inspect her face.
"Diane found out about the TikTok video," Brooke cried, wiping her running nose with her sleeve.
"She saw the jar! She recognized Mom’s handwriting on the label!"
My stomach dropped like a lead weight straight through the floor.
"What did she do, Brooke?"
"She and Dad spent all afternoon searching your old bedroom and the garage," Brooke revealed, her voice shaking with terror.
"Diane called a corporate patent lawyer in Columbus an hour ago."
"She claims that because you mixed the early formulas in their garage while living under their roof,"
"The intellectual property for Luxe belongs to the Hart family estate!"
"She's filing an emergency commercial injunction tomorrow morning to seize the trademark and the formula!"
A cold, suffocating fury swept through my veins, chasing away every lingering ounce of childhood deference.
My father had thrown me into the rain with a garbage bag on my twenty-first birthday.
He had ignored my calls while I slept in a 24-hour laundromat.
And now, the moment he smelled money on his dead wife's work, he was coming to steal her grave.
"Over my dead body," I whispered.
Mrs. Kim stepped through the doorway, holding a steaming mug of hot tea for Brooke, her face grim and set like stone.
"They cannot seize what has already been filed, little sister," Mrs. Kim said with a razor-thin smile.
I turned to her in surprise. "What do you mean?"
Mrs. Kim pulled an official document from her apron pocket, stamped with the digital seal of the United States Patent and Trademark Office.
"I filed a provisional patent application under Lily Hart's name at eight o'clock yesterday morning," Mrs. Kim announced calmly.
"My cousin is a senior patent clerk in Alexandria."
"The formula belongs exclusively to Lily."
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"Now, girls, stop crying."
"We have a war to win, and the morning bus to Columbus leaves at dawn."
