I didn’t plan to crash a seven-year-old’s birthday party with my grandfather as my unexpected ally, but that’s exactly what happened when someone decided I didn’t belong in my own family.
I’m Britt, 19, a college freshman. My younger brother Ryan—technically half-brother, but really just brother—is the kind of kid who makes being a big sister feel like a permanent job description. He’s gap-toothed, space-obsessed, and insists I’m his favorite person. I’ve never missed one of his birthdays.
But this year was different. My dad’s new wife, Melissa, sent word through my father that I should “sit this one out.” She felt I was “taking attention away from Ryan.” Worse, she called me an “outsider.” The word crushed me. I wrapped the Lego space rocket Ryan had been dreaming about, made a handmade card, and cried quietly in my room when the party began without me.
Then my grandfather showed up at my door. No questions, just a command: “Grab the gift. We’re going.” When I protested, reminding him that Melissa had banned me, he shook his head. “You’re his sister. Nobody erases that. Not while I’m here.”
We drove in silence until we pulled up to a street lined with cars and balloons. Without hesitation, my grandfather walked me right through the front door. The chatter fell silent. Melissa froze. “What is she doing here?” she demanded.
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