For most of my life, I’ve been the overlooked one in my family — the single aunt, the quiet one. But on my 40th birthday, everything changed. I threw myself a party, hoping for something different. And it was — until I heard tires screeching outside. My brand-new SUV had been crashed into a neighbor’s mailbox. And climbing out of the driver’s seat? My teenage nephew, Nick.
When I confronted him, he denied everything. So did the rest of my family. “Nick’s been here the whole time,” they insisted. “You must be confused.” They gaslit me — at my own birthday party.
