My mother always used to say that success resembles an iceberg, with only the top visible while the true effort remains hidden below. It wasn’t until I became that iceberg myself that I grasped her meaning. I'm Emma Chin, and this is the tale of my transformation from the awkward waitress in my husband’s family to witnessing the collapse of their meticulously built world in a single night. Growing up, I lived in a humble apartment above my parents’ quaint restaurant nestled in San Francisco’s Chinatown. I absorbed the meaning of hard work early, even before I could reach the kitchen counter. At 8, I was already folding napkins and welcoming patrons. By 12, I managed the books more efficiently than my father. "Emma, come help me with these numbers," he’d call out with his glasses teetering on his nose. I’d eagerly respond, "Our profit margins are too slim, ba.