Your dad split the last slice of cake between you and your brother. You watched closely — and you're almost certain his piece was bigger. Not by much. But by enough. You feel the unfairness instantly, hot and sharp. You're already opening your mouth to say something. But part of you knows it's a tiny piece of cake, that you've been keeping a running score of every uneven thing for weeks, and that the last time you complained about something this small, the whole table groaned.