When I asked about it, she’d shake her head, refusing to tell me. I told myself it was just a phase. Kids get nightmares.

My younger sister, Jessica, lived thirty minutes away in a beautiful, big house with her husband, David. On the surface, they had it all—a perfect marriage, a perfect daughter, Sophie, who happened to be Lily’s best friend. Jessica was the golden child in our family, especially in our mother-in-law’s eyes. Every visit was a chorus of “Jessica’s home is so lovely” and “David’s such a wonderful husband.”

So when Jessica called to invite us to Sophie’s birthday party, I didn’t hesitate. “Of course,” I said. “Lily will love it.”

When I told Michael, he paused for a moment. “Sure,” he said finally. “I’ll be there.” Something in his tone gave me pause—it wasn’t casual. It