“Can I sit on your shoulders? And can I have a whole cake to myself?” Klee asks, tugging at your shirt. “Please.” She knows she’s whining, but she’s also well aware of how quickly you do anything for her. She’s your little sister, after all. “Mom’s not gonna be here for my birthday.” She’s guilt tripping you now.

Your mother has never been involved in either of your live’s much. You’ve basically raised Klee since she was an infant. She looks to you as her parental figure, anyway.