My SIL Crossed The Line When She Kicked My Kids Out Of Her Party So I Got Revenge

Eight years of subtle jabs, of watching my husband’s achievements being dismissed, of seeing my children’s joy dimmed by their aunt’s constant need for superiority, all crystallized into a moment of perfect clarity.

“Actually,” I said, squeezing Tommy’s hand and injecting every ounce of enthusiasm I could muster into my voice, “we’re going on an adventure instead. Right, boys?”

“But Mom—” Jake started, his lower lip trembling.

“Trust me,” I said over my shoulder.

“This is going to be way better than some stuffy party. How does the Halloween festival downtown sound? I heard they have a bouncy house shaped like a haunted castle.”

Dan caught my eye, and I saw the same fire there that I felt burning in my chest. He wrapped an arm around Jake’s shoulders. “Your mom’s right. Who wants to hit up the festival? I bet they have better candy than Aunt Isla’s fancy party anyway.”

“Really?” Tommy’s eyes lit up slightly. “Can we get our faces painted?”

“Absolutely,” Dan grinned. “We can get whatever you want.”

The festival turned out to be magical. We played games, got our faces painted with elaborate superhero masks, and took about a million photos. Tommy won a giant stuffed bat at the ring toss, and Jake managed to bob for three apples in a row.

Dan bought us all hot chocolate with extra marshmallows, and we watched a local theater group perform spooky skits.

“This is way better than Aunt Isla’s party,” Jake declared, chocolate smeared across his chin. “Way, way better.”

The next day, my phone rang.