At midnight my sister tried to bring her three children into my apartment with my mother’s key, but when she yelled at me “family helps each other”, I had already changed the lock and was waiting for her downstairs to put a stop to it.

Sienna shifted Milo to her other shoulder and gave me the same condescending look she had used to manipulate me since we were toddlers in the sandbox.

“I have three small children with me, Leona, and I am not out here trying to party or ruin your night for my own entertainment.”

“Your situation is unfortunate, but having children does not grant you a universal pass to ignore the word no when I say it to you,” I responded.

My mother stepped between us and threw her hands up in a gesture of frantic desperation as if she could simply wish the conflict away.

“You are making a mountain out of a molehill because of your pride, and you need to remember that family is supposed to support each other during hard times,” she scolded.

“Family is also supposed to respect each other enough not to hand out keys to apartments they don’t own behind the owner’s back,” I reminded her.

My mother went quiet for a split second, but Sienna was far from finished with her attempt to shame me into submission.

“You have always been so cold and calculated, and you would clearly rather prove a point than show a single ounce of compassion for your own blood,” she snapped.