I remembered something.
Money wasn’t the real problem.
Dependence was.
So I started building a business.
I knew that online logistics software would become extremely valuable.
In my first life, I had watched a small startup become a major company.
I remembered its name.
I remembered its founder.
And I remembered that they were looking for investors.
I contacted them.
They rejected me.
So I tried again.
Then again.
Finally, I convinced the founder to meet me.
His name was Marcus Hill.
He was thirty-one and working out of a tiny office above a bakery.
He looked exhausted.
“You want to invest?”
“Yes.”
“How much?”
“Twenty thousand.”
He laughed.
“That’s not enough.”
“I know.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Because I know what your company will become.”
He stared at me.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that in three years, you’ll have companies fighting to acquire you.”
Marcus stopped smiling.
“How could you possibly know that?”
I smiled.
“I don’t.”
That was a lie.
But it was the first lie I told for my own survival.
Three months later, the investment doubled.
Six months later, it quadrupled.
Marcus offered me a position.
I refused.
“I want ownership, not a salary.”
