At dinner, Mom said calmly, “Your sister needs your room.” Dad slammed his hand on the table. “Either agree or get out.” A week later, I didn’t argue — I simply moved into the house across the street. When they saw the “Sold” sign with my name on it, their faces drained of color.

I am Allison Carter, 29 years old. And last week, at a family dinner that started like any other, my world was irrevocably turned upside down. My whole life, I’ve been the invisible one, a ghost in the architecture of my own family. I was the quiet, studious daughter my parents barely noticed next to my sister, Julia—the dazzling, charismatic beauty influencer who could do no wrong in their eyes. They praised her every move, showered her with everything her heart desired, while I was simply… there.