Came home for the holidays, but my mom opened the door and said, “You weren’t invited — this is for family only.” I turned around without a word; minutes later, my sister texted, “Don’t take it personally — you know how you are.”

no dramatic tire squeal.

No angry goodbye.

I had already booked a small hotel as a backup because some part of me had apparently known this visit could go badly.

By the time I checked in, I had five missed calls.

Two from Mom.

One from Dad.

One from Melanie.

And one from a number I didn’t recognize.

Probably Melanie’s boyfriend.

I ignored all of them.

I made some terrible hotel tea, sat near the window, and switched my phone to silent.

Then the messages began.

“Why isn’t the Wi-Fi