As I sat in the airport, sipping my third coffee, a small boy caught my eye. He wandered through the crowd, clutching his backpack, looking lost. My gut told me to help, so I approached him gently.

“Hey, buddy, are you okay?” I asked.

The boy, barely six, shook his head, tears threatening to spill. “I’m Tommy,” he whispered, eyes wide with fear.

“Do you know where your parents are?” I asked.

Tommy handed me his backpack. Inside, I found an airline ticket with the last name “Harrison”—my last name. My heart skipped a beat. Could he be related to me?

Before I could process it, a man rushed toward us. It was Ryan—my estranged brother. His eyes widened in shock as he saw me with his son.

“Dad!” Tommy called, running to him. Ryan hugged him tightly before looking at me, his expression conflicted.

“Is he… my nephew?” I asked, my voice shaky.

Ryan hesitated but nodded. “Yeah, he is.”

The years of anger and unresolved feelings between us hung in the air. Ryan sighed, his voice soft. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

I swallowed hard, the weight of his words hitting me. “You just disappeared, Ryan.”

He looked at Tommy, his face full of regret. “I know. I screwed up.”

Tommy glanced up at me, then at Ryan. “Are we gonna see Uncle Ethan again?”

Ryan and I exchanged a tentative look. “Maybe,” Ryan said.

“Yeah,” I added quietly. “Maybe we can.”