“I didn’t know how to be a sister without being in control.”
I read it, folded it back into the envelope, and put it away.
Not because it fixed anything.
Because it didn’t.
Apologies don’t erase damage.
Insight doesn’t rebuild trust.
But I didn’t destroy the letter either.
I kept it as proof of one thing I had learned the hardest way possible:
You can love someone and still refuse to live inside their chaos.
You can share blood with someone and still be unsafe for each other.
And you can survive without burning yourself down to keep someone else warm.
That night, Mia came into the kitchen half asleep and asked if everything was okay.
I smiled and told her yes.
And for the first time in a long time, it was completely true.
All because of one text.
I want a $2,000 new phone. You’ll upgrade me?
