Then I dropped them into the family group chat.
In my previous life, I'd told them it wasn't me. That I hadn't pushed her. And every last one of them had piled on, pointing fingers, insisting I was the one who'd knocked Aunt Patricia down.
This time, I had proof.
What I didn't expect was how fast Aunt Patricia responded.
"Jennifer, what is wrong with you?"
"You just up and leave without a word? What if something happens to me?"
Then the others started chiming in, one after another—saying I shouldn't be traveling during the holidays, that it was selfish, that it was wrong.
I stared at the messages flooding the screen, and I fired back at every single one.
"Uncle Harold—Aunt Patricia's health isn't great, but she's YOUR sister. Taking care of her is YOUR responsibility."
"And to my other relatives: I'm not allowed to have a life during the holidays?"
"Since when is going on vacation a crime?"
Then I tagged Derek directly.
"Your mother isn't MY mother. If she needs someone to look after her, come back and do it yourself."
"I took care of her out of the goodness of my heart—because I felt sorry for her."
"That doesn't mean her problems are mine to carry."
The group chat went dead silent.