For a long time, nobody spoke. I looked at the childhood photograph and imagined the two brothers growing up together, sharing secrets, and making promises they couldn’t keep. I wondered how many birthdays and holidays had passed without them speaking. Brian eventually stood and walked over to James. “I don’t know how to feel about all this,” he admitted. “But you look exactly like our father, and I can see why he wanted you back.” James’s eyes filled with tears. He thanked Brian, then turned toward me. I realized that none of us could change the past.

Mom began serving dinner, but she was no longer following her usual routine. Instead of leaving Dad’s old chair empty, she placed a plate in front of James. “Your brother wanted you here,” she said gently. James stared at the plate and wiped his eyes. We ate slowly, sharing stories about Dad and listening to James describe memories we had never heard. Some stories made us laugh, while others made Mom cry. Before dessert, James asked whether he could visit again next Sunday. Brian looked at me, then smiled. “There’s always room at this table,” he answered.