Feeling kind of guilty

Faithful reader(s) will recall the saga of the booty shorts, my negotiation of their surrender, and their resurrection. After my sister wore them after swearing she wouldn't, I hid them for a few days and then I threw them out. Tonight she started searching through her clean/dirty clothes basket muttering 'how do jeans just up and walk away' and I felt that feeling I imagine parents feel when reading their children's text messages or not letting them know that inappropriate guy DID call. A little guilty I'm not letting her make her own decisions, a little justified that over 200 dollars of free work and casual clothing cancels out the humane disposal of what was masquerading as clothing. I didn't even think about the booty shorts again until she asked if I had seen them. I lied. Over and over again. I am not sorry because she already demonstrated she was not going to keep the shorts as a memorial to bad taste and never wear them again as agreed. But for a minute I still felt bad. In this 900 square feet of space we share, she's going to find it increasingly hard to believe she's overlooking them but perhaps one day when we're older, and she doesn't have the keys to my house, I can confirm what I'm sure she already suspects and tell her where the booty shorts are buried.