I never told my sister-in-law that I was a Colonel in Army Intelligence!

Sarah was Emily’s older sister. Three months ago, she had shown up with suitcases and a story about a breakup and a “toxic” job. Emily, ever the caretaker, had let her stay “for a little while.” A little while had stretched into months, with Sarah taking over the guest suite like it was hers. She criticized everything: the food, the cleaning, the thermostat—and me.

“The belt needed replacing,” I said, wiping my hands on a rag. “It’s done.”

Sarah sipped her latte slowly, savoring the moment. “Amazing. Maybe next you can fix your life. Emily’s out there working herself to death, and you’re playing mechanic. If it were my house, you’d be living in a tent.”

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