While waiting at the airport, I noticed a young boy, around six years old, wandering alone through the crowd. His scared expression and tight grip on his backpack pulled at my heart. I couldn’t just sit there, so I approached him.

“Hey, are you okay?” I asked gently. He froze, looking down, clearly frightened. I crouched to his level to make him feel safer.

“What’s your name?” I asked softly.

“Tommy,” he whispered.

“Do you know where your parents are?” I inquired. He handed me his backpack, and inside I found an airline ticket with my last name: Harrison. My heart skipped. His features—his eyes, nose, chin—looked too familiar, but I had no children.

“Who’s your dad?” I asked, my voice trembling.

“He’s here… at the airport,” Tommy replied vaguely.

I decided to take him to security, hoping to find his dad. As we walked through the terminal, I realized Tommy’s father had to be my estranged brother, Ryan. Suddenly, I saw him—older, worn, searching frantically through the crowd.

“Dad!” Tommy shouted, pulling me out of my thoughts. Ryan’s eyes locked on us, his shock evident. He rushed over, pulled Tommy into a hug, and then stared at me, stunned.

“I can’t believe it,” Ryan muttered.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again,” he added, his voice mixed with regret.

“Is he… my nephew?” I asked without thinking.

Ryan hesitated before nodding. “Yeah.”

The weight of his admission hit me. “I wish I’d known,” I whispered, feeling the years of anger and confusion rush in.

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” Ryan admitted, looking down.

“I don’t understand why you just disappeared,” I said, my voice cracking.

Ryan sighed. “I know. Things were complicated. I didn’t know how to deal with it.”

Just then, Tommy asked, “Are we gonna see Uncle Ethan again?”

Ryan and I froze. After a long pause, Ryan offered a small smile. “Maybe,” he said, glancing at me. “Maybe we can try.”

I met his gaze, my chest tight with emotions. “Yeah,” I replied softly. “Maybe we can.”