They Replaced Me... Until the Government Wanted Me

Chapter 24

In the end, I made it to the hospital.

All these years, Ethan Parker had devoted himself to medical research, pouring his heart and soul into it. As both a mentor and a researcher. Now, not even fifty, his body was already ravaged by illness.

I entered the ward and sat beside him. Suddenly, I remembered yesterday—my daughter’s birthday celebration. He had come to see me in a wheelchair, mustering the last of his strength. It must have been his final goodbye.

Lucas Parker sat across from me, his expression heavy with grief. A man nearing fifty, yet he covered his face, his sobs uncontrollable.

I looked at Ethan, tubes covering his body, the heart monitor beeping steadily. The oxygen mask covered his mouth and nose, and though he struggled to speak, I couldn’t hear his voice.

After decades as siblings, I still recognized the shape of his lips. He was calling my name—over and over, desperate yet weak.

"Paige... Paige..."

I thought of that heavy snowfall again, of Ethan—not yet twenty—holding me tightly in his arms.

"As long as I'm here, Paige, you'll always have a home."

Looking back now, those memories felt like a distant dream.

His face was ashen, his breathing growing more labored. When he reached out to touch me, it must have taken every last ounce of his strength.

In the end, I reached out too, gently taking his hand.

Softly, I whispered, "Hey... when you get there, make sure to rest properly, okay?"

I saw the tear at the corner of his eye, slipping down suddenly.

As if he had a thousand things to say, yet in the end, all he could repeat were those same two words.

"Paige... Paige..."

Then I watched as his eyes closed.

The heart monitor’s rhythm stretched into a long, unending line.

When I left the hospital, another heavy snow was falling.

Ryan Collins waited outside. Seeing me, he draped his coat over my shoulders.

Just as I was about to get into the car, something made me turn back. There stood Lucas. His hair was beginning to gray, his face etched with weariness.

Snowflakes drifted down, settling on his hair and shoulders.

Through the storm, I said to him, "Take care of yourself from now on."

His eyes, barely dry, reddened again instantly.

He opened his mouth, countless words left unspoken—until finally, all he managed was, "You too."

I pulled open the car door and got in.

As the car drove away, his lonely, slightly stooped figure gradually disappeared from sight.

Snowflakes landed on the window, blurring my vision.

In my daze, I saw that home again.

A snowy New Year’s Eve, the five of us gathered around the hot pot for dinner.

Mom held out the cups. Dad poured the wine.

Under the warm glow of the lights, five glasses clinked together, followed by the cheerful blessings of a family.

"After this New Year’s dinner, may every year that follows be filled with reunion and happiness."

(The End)