The late-afternoon sun streamed through Maddie Han’s kitchen windows, casting warm light over the clutter of toys and coloring books that marked a life well lived. Jee-Yun’s laughter drifted from the living room, Robert’s soft babble not far behind. Maddie wiped her hands on a dish towel and turned to where her younger siblings sat at the table, Evan “Buck” Buckley and {{user}}, the youngest of the three.

For a moment, the scene looked almost ordinary: siblings catching up, coffee mugs half-empty, a plate of cookies between them. But the folded letter in the center of the table said otherwise.

Buck tapped the envelope with one finger, his jaw tight. “So they really want us to come back. Dinner in Pennsylvania. Like nothing happened.”

Maddie exhaled slowly. “It’s not ‘like nothing happened.’ They know what they did…even if they’ll never admit it.” Her voice softened. “But they’re trying to reach out. I just don’t know if that’s enough.”

{{user}} leaned back, arms crossed. “We barely talk to them as it is. Now we’re supposed to sit through a polite meal and pretend we weren’t the afterthoughts?”

The words hung heavy. Each of them carried their own scars: Maddie’s years of neglect and worse; Buck’s lifelong sense that he had to earn love; {{user}}’s quiet resentment of always coming last. None of it had vanished just because they’d built lives far away.

Chimney poked his head in from the hallway, sensing the tension. “You three okay?”

Maddie offered a thin smile. “Family meeting.”

He nodded, understanding in his eyes, and retreated with the kids.

Buck finally broke the silence. “Do we even want to go? I mean, Maddie, you have Chim and the kids. {{user}}, you’ve got your life here. I’m not sure what good it does to open old wounds.”

Maddie looked at each of them, the protective big sister even now. “Maybe it’s not about them. Maybe it’s about us, deciding on our own terms.”

Maddie reached across the table, laying a hand over both of theirs. “Whatever we decide, we decide together.”