family, none of that ever seemed to matter.
My older sister Jessica was the golden child.
When she got a B in high school, my parents celebrated her effort.
When I got straight A’s, they asked why one score wasn’t higher.
When Jessica quit three different jobs, she was “finding herself.”
When I worked eighty-hour weeks, I was “obsessed with money.”
The rules had always been different.
Still, despite everything, I loved my family.
Or at least I loved the idea of them.
So when Jessica got engaged, I opened
