I’ve always said I love my sister-in-law, but I’d be lying if I said she wasn’t exhausting.

Melissa is… a lot. High-maintenance, dramatic, convinced the universe exists to cater to her. For the sake of my brother, Brandon, I’ve spent the last ten years biting my tongue and trying to keep the peace.

But there’s only so much leeching a person can do before something in you snaps.

It started when she invited me on a “fun little grocery trip” to this absurdly overpriced gourmet store she loves.

“Come on, Hannah,” she’d said. “We never get girl time. It’ll be fun!”

It was right before her birthday, so I figured, okay, maybe this is a chance to bond, maybe even spot something I could buy her as a gift later. I had no idea I was walking straight into a setup.

The second we walked in, she was in her element, swanning through the aisles like a duchess on a food show. She kept tossing things into the cart without even looking at the prices—imported cheeses, fancy oils, six different scented candles, specialty snacks, random jars of stuff no sane person keeps in their pantry.“Do you really need that many candles?” I asked when she dumped another armful in.

“Yes,” she said, dead serious. “These are for my birthday vibe.”

By the time we reached the register, the total flashed on the screen and my heart stopped.

$1,470.

I literally felt my jaw drop. The cashier read the number twice. Melissa just smiled like nothing was weird about dropping almost fifteen hundred dollars on a “quick grocery run.”

I was still processing when she did it.

She patted her bag, frowned dramatically, and gasped.