I Raised My Sister’s Kids for 15 Years—On My Birthday, She Demanded Their Gift Belonged to Her.

A long-awaited appearance

Standing on the porch, Sarah’s sister’s face was as inscrutable as ever. “You got my calls,” her sister said, cutting out the politeness. When Sarah mentioned the calls she had avoided, her jaw tensed. The words pricked old wounds like a needle. Sarah said, “Yeah, I got them,” attempting to maintain her composure in the face of her ebbing feelings.

A brotherly entrance

Sarah nodded reluctantly, and her sister moved ahead. Hesitancy seemed to tarnish her normal assurance. He added, “This conversation is long overdue,” as he entered without averting his gaze. It seemed to Sarah that ice was starting to build inside her chest. The tenderness Sarah had experienced with the children was nearly overshadowed by the familiar yet alien presence that filled the room. The past was drawing near rapidly.