My Family Didn’t Invite Me for a Siblings Trip, Until the Airline CEO Greeted Me First
My phone buzzed three times in a row, the kind of rapid vibration that meant trouble, not memes. The screen lit up beside my keyboard, but I ignored it at first. I was finishing an email to a major airline executive, double-checking numbers, tightening phrases, trying to sound like the kind of person who belonged in conversations about multi-million-dollar partnerships.
Outside my glass office door, the open-plan floor of my company hummed with low conversation and the clack of keyboards. Two junior engineers were arguing quietly about server load. Someone laughed near the espresso machine. The late afternoon light slid between the downtown high-rises, striping the carpet with gold.
“Almost done,” I muttered, rereading the last sentence of my email. My fingers hovered over the trackpad.
My phone buzzed again, insistent this time.
I glanced down. The banner at the top of the screen read, Hey, siblings only.
I didn’t open that group chat often. It had been my brother Tyler’s idea, a way to “stay close as a family” after we scattered to different cities. In reality, he mostly used it to post gym selfies and half-funny memes that always seemed to land on me. Brooke chimed in with gossip and polished photos from her influencer-lite life. Mom sprinkled in guilt-laced check-ins. I contributed the occasional thumbs-up.
The chat icon showed nine unread messages and counting.
I sighed, clicked send on my email, and picked up my phone. If I didn’t check it, they’d call. And if they called, they’d expect me to sound grateful for whatever they’d decided without me this time.
The messages loaded in a blur.
Tyler: Flights booked. Vegas trip. Let’s go.
Brooke: Finally, siblings-only vacation!!!
Brooke again, right below it: I’m so happy for you three. You deserve it. ✨
I frowned.
You three.
I scrolled.
Tyler: Just to be clear, this is for the actual siblings only. No plus ones, no extras.
My thumb paused over the glass. My heartbeat spiked in a way my Fitbit would later interpret as cardio.
Another message came in before I could fully process that one.
Brooke: Yeah, Lauren, you know what we mean. It’s a bio-kids trip. Hope you’re not offended 🥰
For a second, the office around me went fuzzy. The soft whoosh of the AC, the murmur of voices outside my door, the constant low fan of my desktop—everything blurred into static.
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