I (20F) lost my younger brother 2 years ago. He was 14 when he died from a rare heart condition. It destroyed all of us — he was our sunshine, always smiling even when he was in pain.

A few weeks before his last birthday, he picked out a small plushie at the store. It was a goofy little bear wearing a birthday hat. He told me, “This one’s gonna be my party buddy.” He was joking of course, but he carried that thing around all day. He died before his birthday came.

We never had the heart to touch it. Mom placed it in a glass case in his room. That bear felt like the last piece of him still smiling at us.

Fast forward to now: my mom had a baby with her new husband. I’m not gonna lie, I’ve struggled to accept the new family dynamics. It’s not the baby’s fault — but I’ve felt like a guest in my own house since they moved in.

Last week I came home and saw the plushie — his plushie — in the crib with the baby. No glass case. No explanation. Just... there.

I asked my mom why and she said, “It’s a waste just keeping it in a box. He would’ve loved to see it getting used. And your sister loves it.”

I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. I just walked out of the room and haven’t really spoken to her since. She keeps trying to talk to me and says I’m being cold and unreasonable. That I need to “move on” and stop being stuck in the past.

But that bear wasn’t just a toy. It was the last gift he ever touched. She gave it away like it meant nothing.

I don’t think I can forgive her for that.

So… AITAH?