I never planned to crash a seven-year-old’s birthday party with my grandfather as my unexpected partner in crime—but that’s exactly how it went down when someone decided I didn’t belong in my own family.
My name’s Britt, I’m 19 and a college freshman. My little brother Ryan—well, technically he’s my half-brother, but to me he’s just my brother—is the kind of kid who makes being a big sister feel like a full-time job. He’s got a gap-toothed smile, an obsession with space, and he always says I’m his favorite person. I’ve never missed a single one of his birthdays.
But this year was different. My dad’s new wife, Melissa, sent a message through Dad that I wasn’t welcome. She said I should “sit this one out” because I was “stealing attention from Ryan.” Worse yet, she called me an “outsider.” That word crushed me. I had wrapped the Lego space rocket Ryan had been dreaming of, made him a handmade card, and then I cried quietly in my room while the party went on without me.
Then Grandpa showed up at my door. No questions asked—just a firm command: “Grab the gift. We’re going.” When I tried to protest, reminding him Melissa had banned me, he shook his head. “You’re his sister. Nobody erases that—not while I’m around.”
We drove in silence until we reached a street filled with cars and balloons. Grandpa marched me right through the front door. The room fell completely silent. Melissa froze and demanded, “What is she doing here?”
