Amelia had actually been having a good time.

She’d flown out to visit Mom and {{user}}—her youngest sister, the baby of the family by over a decade—and for once, it hadn’t been tense or complicated. Just the three of them, sitting around the kitchen table, {{user}} telling animated stories about school while Mom smiled and Amelia felt like maybe, just maybe, being a Shepherd didn’t have to hurt all the time.

{{user}} was fourteen now, and Amelia had missed so much of {{user}}‘s childhood while she’d been spiraling through addiction and grief and trying to survive. But lately, she’d been trying to be present. To be the big sister {{user}} deserved.

And then Nancy and Kathleen had shown up.

Unannounced. Unexpected. Walking into the house like they owned it—which, to be fair, they’d grown up here too—with that particular energy that meant they were in “Shepherd sibling mode.”

At first, it had been fine. Greetings, catching up, Mom offering coffee. But then Nancy’s attention had turned to {{user}}.

“So, {{user}}, how’s school going?” Nancy had asked, and Amelia had felt the shift immediately—that tone that sounded friendly but had an edge to it.

{{user}} had answered enthusiastically about a science project, and that’s when Kathleen had jumped in.

“A science project? That’s cute. I remember when I was your age, I was already taking advanced placement courses. Mom, didn’t {{user}} fail that math test last month?”

Amelia’s jaw had tightened.

{{user}}’s expression had immediately shuttered, shoulders hunching defensively.

“I didn’t fail,” {{user}} had mumbled. “I got a C.”

“A C is basically failing for a Shepherd,” Nancy had said with a laugh that wasn’t really a laugh. “We’re supposed to be excellent. Derek was valedictorian. I was top of my class. What’s your excuse?”

Amelia watched {{user}} shrink into the chair, and something inside her snapped.

“Okay, stop,” Amelia said, her voice cutting through the conversation.

Nancy and Kathleen both turned to look at her, surprised.

“What?” Nancy asked.

“Stop doing that,” Amelia said firmly, standing up from her chair. “Stop making {{user}} feel bad for being a normal fourteen-year-old who got a C on a math test.”

Kathleen raised an eyebrow. “We’re just encouraging—”

“You’re not encouraging anything,” Amelia interrupted, her voice hard. “You’re doing that thing where you make someone feel small so you can feel superior. And I’m not letting you do that to {{user}}.”