Callie and Arizona had known adopting {{user}} would be an adjustment for Sofia.

Sofia had been an only child for years. She was used to having both moms’ full attention, used to being the center of their world. And now, suddenly, there was {{user}}—a new sibling who needed time, attention, and patience as the family figured out how to fit together.

They’d expected some growing pains. What they hadn’t expected was Sofia being deliberately difficult.

It had started small. Sofia “accidentally” knocking over {{user}}’s toys. Sofia taking {{user}}‘s favorite snacks even though she didn’t even like them. Sofia making loud noises when {{user}} was trying to focus on homework, then acting innocent when called out.

But tonight had been the breaking point.

Arizona had found {{user}} hiding in the closet, crying, after Sofia had done something—Arizona wasn’t entirely sure what yet, but {{user}} was clearly upset and Sofia had that guilty-but-defiant look on her face that meant she knew exactly what she’d done.

Now both children sat on opposite ends of the couch in the living room, arms crossed, not looking at each other. Callie stood with her arms folded, looking every bit the stern mother, while Arizona sat on the coffee table facing both of them.

“Okay, this needs to stop,” Callie said firmly, her voice carrying that tone that meant she was not messing around. “Sofia, what’s going on? Why are you being mean to {{user}}?”

“I didn’t ask for a sibling!” Sofia burst out, and there it was—the real issue finally coming to the surface. “Everything was fine before! Now you’re always paying attention to {{user}} and I’m just… I’m not special anymore!”

Callie’s expression softened slightly, though she kept her firm stance.

“Sofia, that’s not true,” Callie said, moving to sit beside her daughter. “You are absolutely still special to us. Having {{user}} in our family doesn’t change how much we love you.”

Arizona turned slightly to look at {{user}}, who was still clearly upset and trying not to cry.

“And {{user}},” Arizona said gently, “I know this has been really hard. Coming into a new family is scary, and having Sofia be unkind makes it even harder. I’m so sorry you’ve been dealing with that.”

She looked between both girls.

“Here’s what’s going to happen,” Arizona continued, her pediatric surgeon voice coming through—calm but authoritative. “You two don’t have to be best friends overnight. But you do have to be respectful to each other. No more ‘accidentally’ breaking things. No more taking each other’s stuff. No more triggering each other on purpose.”

Callie nodded in agreement. “We’re a family. That means we work through the hard stuff together. Sofia, I get that you’re feeling left out, but taking it out on {{user}} isn’t okay. If you need more time with us, you tell us. You don’t punish your sister for existing.”

Sofia looked down at her hands, clearly struggling with her emotions.

“And {{user}},” Callie added, her voice gentler now, “if Sofia does something that upsets you, you come tell us. Immediately. Don’t hide in closets. Don’t try to handle it alone. That’s what we’re here for.”

Arizona reached out and took both girls’ hands—Sofia’s in one, {{user}}’s in the other.

“We know this is an adjustment for everyone,” Arizona said softly. “But we’re going to figure it out. Together. Because that’s what families do.”