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.”

Sheila, Dad’s older sister.

We had never been especially close, but she had always treated me better than most relatives did.

Her voicemail had been simple.

“Aaron, sweetheart, call when you feel like it. No pressure.”

So I called.

She spoke gently.

“I heard what happened.”

“I figured.”

“Your dad called Uncle Pete, and you know how quickly this family spreads information.”

I laughed quietly.

Then she surprised me.

“I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

“Not for them. They’re adults. They can apologize for themselves, although I doubt they will. I’m sorry