one who fronted her the money for the “emergency” car repair that was actually for a weekend getaway, the one who babysat her kids with no notice while she went on her “last-minute, absolutely critical” spa days. I did it all with barely a thank you, always hearing the same tired refrain from our parents: She’s going through a lot, Linda. Be patient with her.

As if I wasn’t. As if raising a son on my own while building a career was a walk in the park. But Jill’s life has always been a curated drama, one chaotic mess after another. Yet somehow, she