Chapter 492: Sending Off the Eldest Son Again

Chapter 492: Chapter 492: Sending Off the Eldest Son Again

The car stopped a short distance from the house. As soon as Old Man Miller got out, he saw numerous people going in and out of his home.

Everyone wore a panicked expression, and here and there, people were on their phones, making calls.

Old Man Miller’s heart sank, and he broke into a run toward his house.

Zoe Sawyer and the others hurried after him.

It wasn’t far, and within seconds, Old Man Miller was at his front door.

The crowd moving in and out finally saw Old Man Miller and rushed over to him. "Uncle Miller, you’re finally back!" one said anxiously. "You have to go see him. Your eldest son... he’s not doing so well."

Everything had been fine, but half an hour ago, Miller the Eldest had suddenly started shaking violently, his face rapidly turning ashen.

Old Man Miller had asked a young neighbor to look after him, but the young man had never experienced anything like this and could only call his own parents for help.

From there, word spread like wildfire. Soon, everyone in the neighborhood knew about the Miller Family’s situation. Realizing Old Man Miller wasn’t home, they all came over to see if they could help.

Many of them gathered around, taking turns talking to Miller the Eldest, urging him to hang on and wait for his father.

Between their constant words of encouragement and the medicine in the house, he had barely managed to hold on until now.

Everyone was anxiously waiting, hoping to contact Old Man Miller soon. Otherwise, Miller the Eldest truly wouldn’t make it.

Thankfully, at this critical moment, Zoe Sawyer and her group brought Old Man Miller home.

After hearing the neighbors’ explanation, Old Man Miller hurried to his eldest son’s room.

"Miller the Eldest, your dad is back! Hang on!" a woman sitting by the bed and holding his hand shouted when she saw Old Man Miller.

Miller the Eldest, whose pupils had been losing focus, suddenly took a sharp breath. His gaze cleared considerably, and he struggled to lift his head from the bed to look at his anxious father. "Dad... is my brother gone? I have a feeling he’s gone."

The people beside the bed gasped, exchanging glances with the other neighbors.

No wonder his condition had deteriorated so suddenly. They say twins share a special connection. He must have sensed his brother was gone, and the shock caused his will to collapse.

A sharp-eyed man spotted Zoe Sawyer and the others by the door and hurried over. "You’re the ones who brought Old Man Miller back. Do you know something?"

"Is it true what Miller the Eldest said? Is his younger brother really gone?"

Sean Hughes, standing nearby, nodded at him. "Yes. About an hour ago. He couldn’t hold on any longer."

Many of the people nearby had been straining to hear. Upon hearing Sean Hughes’s answer, a look of "I knew it" flashed across their faces.

So it was true—twins really did have a connection. Miller the Eldest must have sensed what happened to his brother, and the sudden grief must have overwhelmed him, causing his condition to worsen so rapidly.

He had managed to hold on for twenty years; how could tragedy strike them both at once?

Inside the room, Old Man Miller wrapped an arm around his eldest son’s shoulders. Just as he always had, he smoothed his son’s hair with his hand, making sure not a single strand was out of place before he answered, "Yes, your brother is gone. He said he wanted to donate his body to science... to bring honor to our family."

Then, Old Man Miller told his eldest son, nestled in his arms, everything that had happened since he arrived at the hospital, down to the last detail.

Many of the more emotional women nearby turned away to wipe their tears, then quietly slipped out of the room.

This would be the eldest’s last night. Old Man Miller had been both mother and father, raising his sons through it all. The family had long been prepared for this day.

Getting things ready now would spare his son any further trouble when the time came.

A faint smile touched Miller the Eldest’s lips as he leaned into his father’s embrace, listening to his soft, rambling words.

When Old Man Miller finished, his son reached out, took his father’s hand, and gave it a firm squeeze. Then, his grip loosened, and he closed his eyes with a smile.

Knowing what had become of his brother and getting to see his father one last time, Miller the Eldest was at peace.

The last breath he had been holding onto was released, and he was gone.

Old Man Miller held his eldest son tightly and murmured, "It’s for the best. You’ve suffered for over twenty years. Go on now, and find some peace."

Seeing the people coming and going from the Miller house, Zoe Sawyer and the others retreated to their car.

Heath Hale patted Zoe Sawyer’s shoulder. "I did the math," he said. "If we had ignored him, Old Man Miller would have taken the train and missed seeing his younger son one last time."

"And even if he’d rushed straight back, at this hour, he would’ve missed his eldest son’s final moments, too. Zoe Sawyer, I’m so glad I didn’t stop you."

To be able to see his younger son just in time, and then his older one... you could only call it the cruel whims of fate.

"It’s getting late. Let’s just crash in the car for tonight. We can deal with everything else in the morning," Sean Hughes said, checking the time.

They were the ones who brought Old Man Miller back, so everyone near the Miller house had seen them and knew how many there were.

’We don’t know if someone might come knocking in the middle of the night,’ he reasoned. ’To be cautious, it’s better to just stay in the car.’

They had been through tougher situations before; sleeping in a car for one night was nothing.

Once the decision was made, neither Zoe Sawyer nor the others objected.

They had staked out the train station that morning and arrested a suspect. Before they could even head back, they ran into Old Man Miller’s situation.

It was safe to say none of the six had rested all day.

The next day, at the crack of dawn, a knock sounded on the car door.

Heath Hale’s eyes snapped open. He cautiously opened the door to see four or five middle-aged women standing beside the car, holding large bowls.

"What is it? Is something wrong?" Heath Hale asked, his eyes scanning the surroundings warily.

The woman in the lead quickly waved her hands. "No, no. Old Man Miller told us. You officers were running around for him all last night and must not have had a proper meal. He asked us to bring you some congee."

"Please, just have a few bites."

According to Old Man Miller, if it weren’t for these officers, he probably wouldn’t even be back yet, let alone have been there for his son’s final moments.

A bowl of congee was nothing in comparison.

The conversation woke the others in the car. They all climbed out, rubbing their stiff necks, and accepted the congee, thanking the women.

Once they were sure everyone had taken a bowl, the women turned to leave. There was still a mountain of things to do at the Miller house, and no time for idle chat.

One of the team members rubbed his stomach and shot Heath Hale a questioning look.

Heath Hale took the first sip. "It’s a kind gesture," he said. "Don’t let it go to waste."