The dining room looked like something out of a magazine.
Candles. Crystal. Pine garlands. A tree so tall it brushed the ceiling.
I’d spent days polishing the table until it reflected the chandelier like a mirror.
Because I wanted this Christmas to be the one where things finally felt… normal.
Where “family” meant warmth instead of tension.
Twenty-two place settings lined the table.
Dozens of wrapped gifts sat under the tree—adult gifts, kids’ gifts, carefully chosen, no shortcuts.
And the biggest surprise?
A luxury family trip I’d booked for everyone.
Then dinner started.
And I realized something was off.
The smiles were polite. The compliments sounded rehearsed.
They ate, drank, and watched me like they were waiting for a cue.
After dessert, I stood up to hand out the envelopes.
That’s when my sister finally smirked.
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