My birthday dinner was perfect… until the restaurant doors slammed open like a scene straight out of a movie. In came my stepmom, Kathleen—storming forward with the fury of a soap opera villain—her eyes blazing, her heels clicking so sharply on the floor that the sound alone could slice bread. And then, loud enough for every single diner to hear, she accused me of “betraying the family” because I hadn’t catered to her and my stepbrother’s precious restrictive food rules. Before I could even get a word out, someone else