Thomas had returned, decades later, driven by the need to make amends, to understand, perhaps to be recognized. We listened to him, divided between compassion and loyalty to the one who had raised us.
The decision was not easy, but it was clear: he could not stay. Some wounds, even old ones, are not ready to be reopened.
The most imperfect dinner… and the most precious
Once alone, mom collapsed. Guilt, the fear of having disappointed us, the anguish of having weakened our family. We reassured her, held her close to us. Reminding him that our childhood had been happy, that his story with dad was true, deep, and that no revelation could erase it.
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