I spent weeks planning the perfect sweet 16 for my niece, pouring my heart into every detail. When I moved from Mexico to the U.S. with just two suitcases, my sister Ana and her husband took me in, and I quickly became a second mother to little Emily. She used to call me “Tía” with such warmth it nearly brought me to tears. I missed her quinceañera,
something that still aches in my chest, so I promised I’d make her sixteenth unforgettable. I decorated the house with fairy lights, baked a three-tier cake, and hired makeup artists for her and her friends. The morning buzzed with laughter, selfies, and music. As I dressed in a soft emerald gown, feeling proud and excited, I thought nothing could go wrong—until I stepped downstairs and heard the words that shattered me: “You need to stay in the kitchen.”