Margaret got up slowly, her knees creaking with age. She moved to a cabinet and pulled out a small, worn box. She opened it carefully, revealing a faded photograph of two young boys—one with dark brown hair and the other with slightly lighter curls.
They were babies, lying side by side in a hospital crib, their tiny hands clasped together. “This is you, George,” Margaret said, her voice trembling. “And this is Luke. The day you were born.” George’s breath caught in his throat as he looked at the photo. Emily’s eyes filled with tears as she watched them.