An afterthought. But that night, under the warm glow of the dining room chandelier, they pushed me too far.

Growing up in Phoenix, I was always eclipsed by my sister’s shadow. Our family lived in a standard two-story house in a middle-class neighborhood in Scottsdale, the kind of place where manicured lawns abutted one another and everyone knew each other’s business. In that house, my sister Julia was the undeniable star of the show. She craved attention with a desperate intensity, always posing for photos, practicing her makeup tutorials in the bathroom mirror until the glass was fogged with her breath, and dreaming of the influencer fame she was certain awaited her.