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"So... have you heard from your brother, Lilia?"

I thought we were going to skip this, this Thanksgiving.

I stare down at my plate, picking at the turkey with my fork. "Yeah, we talked on the phone yesterday,"

My mother's resentment towards Jace's decision to join the military is no secret. She had always envisioned both of her children following her footsteps, becoming surgeons.

But Jace had his own plan. At 18, he enlisted in the military, distancing himself from our parent's expectations. He wanted to live his own life.

Even my own choice to study interior design initially wasn't supported from my mother, but she eventually relented.

My mom's constant digs at Jace are really getting on my nerves. It's like she can't resist taking shots at him every chance she gets. And it's not fair. I mean, when was the last time they reached out to him? Or to me, for that matter?

I'm trying my best to keep my cool, but it's getting harder by the minute. "Maybe you should call him," I finally say, my voice tight with frustration. "He's busy, you know?" It's all I can do to hold back the flood of emotions threatening to spill over.

My mom's response only fueled my aggravation further. "We're all busy," she laughed bitterly. "That boy just has no decency. Ruining his life to go into the military. Practically cutting off his own mother and father, the people who raised him-"

I couldn't let her continue down that path of criticism. "He's out there risking his life, and you can't even muster up the decency to support him?" I interrupted, my voice rising with frustration. "Maybe if you showed him some appreciation instead of constantly belittling his choices, he'd be more inclined to reach out."

Mom's expression tightened, her eyes narrowing at me. "How dare you say that to me? We raised him, and this is how he repays us? By throwing his life away for some foolish idea of honor?"

The table grew even quieter. My whole family sat in stunned silence, none daring to speak.

"Have you ever thought that maybe you're the problem and not us?" I said, unable to hold back my anger any longer.

"Lilia Jane!" My mother's scolding cut through the stillness like a knife. "We have guests over, don't speak to your mother like that." Her yelling at me like a child stung, but I couldn't bring myself to regret speaking up.

The tension at the table was so thick you could practically cut it with a knife, but I stood my ground.

I was beyond tired of this topic resurfacing every year at the dinner table. And what bothered me the most was how no one seemed to mind talking badly about Jace, except me.

Jace was the one who was there for me growing up. He was the one who taught me how to tie my shoes, ride a bike – not my parents. I owed him that loyalty.

"I won't sit here and let you tear him down while he's out there risking everything for our country. If you can't support him, at least have the decency to keep your comments to yourself." I said calmly as I could.

My mother's face flushed with anger, but before she could respond, my father interrupted, trying to calm the situation down.

"Courtney, how about we all just talk about this later?" he suggested to my mom, but she shook her head and looked back at me angrily.

"No, our daughter is not going to speak to me like this while we have guests here, Aaron. She has some real audacity after all that we've done for her," my mom said, clearly annoyed, and opened her mouth to say more.

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