AT FAMILY DINNER, MY SISTER SLAPPED ME, SHOVED ME OUT, AND SCREAMED “GET OUT OF MY HOUSE.” SHE DIDN’T REALIZE THE SOLDIER SHE JUST THREW OUT WAS ABOUT TO DECLARE WAR. I spent all day making that dinner feel normal — scrubbing the kitchen, ironing the tablecloth, cooking Grandma’s pot roast the way she used to. I thought maybe the smell of something familiar could make us a family again. That was my first mistake. Vanessa walked in first, heels sharp as her voice, acting like she owned the place.