I’m a 40-year-old widower. Two months ago, my 34-year-old sister moved in with her two young kids after a bad breakup. I wanted to help, and at first things seemed fine. She slept in late, often past noon, so I started making breakfast for the kids, which gave me purpose and helped fill the void left by my late wife.
Over time, the kids became picky and complained about everything I made. I told them to ask their mom for breakfast instead. She never came down, and I realized she wasn’t pulling her weight while I handled the kids.
One night, I went to talk to her and found her room empty, her phone left behind. I checked my security cameras and discovered she’d been sneaking out every night from 10 p.m. to 5 a.m. I felt betrayed.
The next morning, I overheard her on the phone saying, “He’s still buying it.” That’s when I knew she wasn’t just struggling—she was lying to me, and I didn’t know why.