My younger sister, Sophie, was my parents’ everything, their “miracle” after surviving a tough illness as a baby. My older sister, Grace, was always in her shadow. I’m Ethan, the middle sibling, watching this unfairness growing up. Grace’s perfect test scores got a nod, but Sophie’s tiny wins, like a sticker for participation, meant big celebrations. Grace loved to draw, but when she asked for art tools, my parents said no. Soon after, Sophie got a shiny new set when she showed interest. One night, Grace looked at me, her voice breaking, “Ethan, am I invisible?” I was too young to fix it, so I just hugged her, feeling helpless.
As teens, Sophie’s need to overshadow Grace turned cruel. She stole Grace’s crush for kicks and once cut Grace’s hair in her sleep, laughing it off. My parents shrugged, saying, “It’s just a prank, Grace.” In college, Sophie took Grace’s boyfriend, and Grace was done. She left, building a happy life with her partner, Ryan, who’d do anything for her. When Grace got pregnant, my parents begged for a family dinner to reconnect. Grace, cautiously hopeful, agreed, but I sensed trouble. At the dinner, my parents were overly sweet, while Sophie watched Grace closely. She made a snide remark about Grace’s pregnancy, hinting it was tough with her “worries.” Ryan stiffened, saying Grace was doing great.
Then Sophie stood, her smile fake, saying Grace must be bitter because Sophie married her ex. Grace looked shattered, but before Ryan could speak, our cousin, Mia, stood. “To Grace,” she said, “who helped me study and gave me a place to crash when I was broke.” Our aunt praised Grace for sitting with her sick son, telling him stories all night. Others spoke up. “Grace drove me to appointments,” said a cousin. “She planned my engagement party,” said another. “She cared for Nana daily,” said our uncle. I stood, choking up. “Grace, you helped me pass history, staying up late even with your own work. You’re incredible.”
Love for Grace filled the room, and Sophie sat, ignored. She looked to our parents, and Mom snapped, “Sophie’s our miracle! She matters too!” Mia retorted, “For what? Hurting Grace?” Dad called Sophie their pride, but Ryan stood, his voice sharp. “Pride? She stole Grace’s love, her joy, and even tried charming me to wound her. You let her.” Sophie stuttered, but Ryan said, “Grace helps others shine. You dim them.” Silence hit. My parents had no words. Sophie screamed, “You’re all against me!” and fled, but no one followed. Grace, tears falling, smiled. “I thought I was nothing, but you showed me I’m enough.” When the baby kicked, Ryan beamed, and we all shared her joy. Grace was finally the star, and our family learned to love without favorites, ensuring she’d never fade again.
