After years of being treated like I didn’t belong, I finally bought my own house. My sister and her family thought it was for them. They used a key my mother stole to move in while I was out. When I came home and found them rearranging my furniture, I didn’t say a word. I just picked up my phone. She screamed when she saw what I did next.

Am I in the wrong for calling the police when my sister’s family broke into my new house with a stolen spare key? I’m Kate, I’m twenty-seven, and I feel like I’ve spent the majority of my life in the long, eclipsing shadow of my older sister, Anna. At thirty, she has always been the family’s golden child, the sun around which all other planets in our little solar system were forced to orbit. She was the smart one, the social one, the one capable of charming her way out of any situation with a dazzling smile and a toss of her perfectly highlighted hair.