Every evening, as the sun kissed the horizon of Canaan, tales of my elder brother, Joseph, were spun into our family's tapestry of memories. From the colorful coat that Father gave him to the dreams that foretold a future none of us truly understood, Joseph's presence was an ever-looming shadow in our lives, even in his absence. I was but a child when Joseph disappeared, and while my older brothers maintained a stoic facade, I often saw pain flicker in their eyes when they spoke of him.
I knew little of the envy and betrayal that took place, but I felt the absence of a brother I barely got the chance to know. The whispered conversations among my brothers, the way Reuben's face paled at the mention of a pit, and Judah's quick dismissal of questions about Joseph's whereabouts hinted at a murky past.
