Our uncle from the USA arrived with a treasure trove of chocolates. My mouth watered at the thought of their rich aroma and the way they would melt on my tongue. But there was a catch—I would have to share them with my silly sibling. When the excitement peaked and the wrappers were finally torn open, my sibling smiled and said, 'You can have them all. I’ve outgrown chocolates.' I rejoiced, feeling like I’d won a silent war. Late that night, though, I crept into her room, slipping a few chocolates into her cupboard. She hadn’t outgrown chocolates; she’d grown to care for me. Like always.
