“We can still have a beautiful life,” Adam said that night as we sat on our porch swing. “You and me. That is enough.”

And he meant it. We slowly rebuilt our dreams. We traveled. We poured ourselves into our careers. We renovated the house room by room until it was the showcase home I had always imagined. Adam supported my business when I decided to launch my own interior design firm. Our life was full, if different, than what we had first planned.

My younger sister, Cassandra, was always in the periphery of our happiness. Four years younger than me, at 30, she had always been the wild child of the family. While I was studying design and building a business, she bounced between jobs and relationships. Our parents constantly worried about her, which translated to them making excuses for her behavior and bailing her out of financial troubles repeatedly.