Once again, I'm speechless. Maybe I should be mad, since there's no way Isabella will let me out of this without me being the bad uncle, but I start to chuckle. I warn Georgia, "I think you messed with the wrong Cartwright."

She smirks.

"Sebastian, help with the lights," Dad orders.

I tear my gaze off my little peach and grab a string of lights.

Everyone stands around the tree, and my mom chirps, "I knew it'd be perfect when I saw it."

I glance at her. "You pick the biggest one."

"I know. I've been waiting for years for this tree," she claims.

"It's really pretty," Georgia says, staring at it like she's never seen a Christmas tree before.

Why does everything seem so special to her?

Is it real excitement?

I continue to stare at her until she catches me. I hand her the plastic reel, stating, "Let's start stringing, Sunshine."

We work for a few hours decorating the tree. Georgia and I continue to go back and forth, and we're both constantly laughing.

There are five ladders. Most of the time, my brothers and I are up there. Sometimes we let the kids go up. When it comes time to put the star on the tree, I hold it out to Georgia. I announce, "You get to put it on."

She glances up at the tree, her eyes wide and expression filled with fear. She replies, "That's okay. Someone else can do it."

"No, you have to do it. You're new to the family," I declare.

She assesses the tree again, and the color drains from her cheeks.

I ask, "What's wrong?"

She swallows hard. "I can't do it, Sebastian. I'm scared of heights."

I jerk my head back, shocked. How is she afraid of anything? She always seems so fearless. I taunt, "Well, that's kind of negative."

She scrunches her face. Her eyes dart between me and the top of the tree.

I continue, "This is something you need to overcome."

"Sebastian, I'm not getting on that ladder."

I put my arm around her waist and lead her toward the ladder, holding the star. "Come on. I'll do it with you."

"I can't," she claims.

"I'll make sure you don't fall. Just don't look down."

"Sebastian, no. I can't."

"Come on," I goad, tugging her into me. "It's not that tall."

She glances behind her, looking up at me, her mouth in an O.

"Since when do you chicken out?" I challenge.

She furrows her eyebrows.

"I'll be right behind you. Promise."

She takes a deep breath, then gives in. "Fine. I'll do it." She grabs the star and moves toward the ladder.

I step behind her. "Guys, make sure it doesn't wobble."

Mason holds one side of the ladder and Jagger the other.

I pat Georgia's ass. "Time's ticking."

She gazes up with determination, then climbs a few rungs. She freezes, fretting, "I don't think I can do this."