My parents told me there wouldn’t be “ENOUGH SPACE” for me at the annual family gathering. But then they invited 88 people. All six of my siblings, their families, in-laws, even cousins and friends. I didn’t say a single word. Instead, I ACTED. Hours later, my mother started screaming…

“Fine,” Sarah said, making a note on her iPad. “I’ll wire Jean-Luc and cover the lighting. That’s another ten thousand, Mom.”

“You’re a lifesaver, darling! I don’t know what we’d do without you.” The praise was quick, sugary, and hollow. “By the way, have you seen Jessica’s dress? She looks stunning. We’re going to debut her engagement to that tech boy tomorrow night.”

Jessica. The younger sister. The Golden Child. While Sarah had spent her twenties building a business empire from scratch, Jessica had spent hers attempting to become an influencer, a model, and currently, a “lifestyle curator,” whatever that meant. Jessica was the porcelain doll the family put on the shelf; Sarah was the wood and nails that built the shelf.

“That’s great, Mom. I actually bought a new gown for tomorrow. Navy blue silk. I think it fits the ‘Midnight in Paris’ theme well.”