I liked that. Ghosts were hard to kill.
When the children were three, I made my first public appearance at a tech conference.
I walked on stage to give a keynote speech, four hundred people in the audience, cameras from every major publication pointed at me.
I wore a black suit that cost more than the entire wardrobe I had owned as a Sterling wife.
My hair was pulled back severely. My makeup was minimal. I looked nothing like the soft, accommodating girl Julian had married.
I looked like power.
“My name is Nora Vance,” I said, my voice carrying across the silent auditorium. “And I am here to tell you that the old rules of venture capital are dead.”
I talked about investing in people, not just ideas.
About backing founders from unconventional backgrounds.
About building sustainable companies instead of chasing quick exits.
The audience was riveted.
After my speech, I was swarmed by reporters, founders, investors who wanted a piece of what I was building.
One reporter asked the question I had been waiting for.
“Ms. Vance, there are rumors you were previously married to Julian Sterling. Can you comment?”
The room went silent.