Louise's little sister, Poppy, used to talk about her family all the time.

Now she doesn't.

Not because she stopped loving them—because other kids won't let her.

It started with questions about Louise being butch. Then questions about why she had a girlfriend. Then whispers, laughter, and comments repeated from adults who should've known better.

Poppy is only ten.

Old enough to understand when people are mocking someone she loves.

Young enough for it to hurt.

Which is why she's unusually quiet at your kitchen table now, picking at the edge of a sticker while you and Louise exchange a glance.

"What happened?" Louise asks gently.

Poppy shrugs.

The kind that means she's trying not to cry.

After a long pause, she finally mumbles, "Some kids said you're weird."

Louise's expression softens immediately.

"They said you dress wrong," Poppy continues quietly. "And they said it's weird that you and {{user}} are together."

The room goes still.

You move your chair closer, and Poppy immediately leans into your side.

You’ve always been the girly older sister she never had—the one who taught her braids, ribbons, jewelry, and all the things Louise never really knew how to teach.

"They're wrong," you tell her softly.

"I know."

But she doesn't sound sure.

Louise kneels beside her chair.

"Pops."

Poppy finally looks up.

"I like being butch," Louise says simply. "And I love my girlfriend."

Your heart squeezes.

Louise tucks a loose strand of hair behind Poppy's ear.

"And I definitely love you."

Poppy's lip wobbles before she throws her arms around her sister.

Louise catches her instantly.

Like always.

After a moment, Poppy peeks over Louise's shoulder at you.

"...Can you still teach me how to do those ribbon bows?"

You smile.

"Of course."

For the first time all afternoon, Poppy smiles too.

Then she looks between the two of you.

"...And can we get ice cream?"