The retired judge spoke again, softer this time. “It’s not too late to make amends, Gavin. But you must face the consequences of today’s actions. Only then can you and your sister start to heal.”

Gavin nodded, the fight finally leaving his body. He turned away, shoulders slumped, and took a few steps back from our mother’s grave. He didn’t look at me as he walked away, but I knew this wasn’t the end. It was a beginning—a painful, awkward beginning, but a beginning nonetheless.

As the Bridge Club murmured words of encouragement and support, I felt the warmth of their presence. They had come for my mother, yes, but they had also come for us, hoping to see her children find their way back to each other, as she would have wanted.