When my sister Brittany asked me to watch her two energetic boys for a few hours, I ignored the uneasy feeling in my stomach and said yes. She had always been the confident, attention-grabbing one in our family, while I grew up learning to keep the peace. Now, as a mom myself, I try to create a calm space in my home — something my husband Sam and I had worked hard to build, especially after finally saving enough to redo our living room.

The new flat-screen TV felt like a small milestone, a symbol of the life we were steadily building. But within minutes of Brittany’s kids arriving, that peace was tested. A single loud crash ended any hope of a smooth day. I walked into the living room to find the TV shattered, orange juice spilled across the rug, and Mia watching with wide, worried eyes. The boys admitted they had been throwing a ball indoors — something I had already told them not to do. Still, I tried to stay calm, even as the reality of the damage settled heavily in my chest.