Page 106 of Shadowing You

“After you… After we learned you’d died… You knew I was working on getting your visa. What you didn’t know was that your parents had also applied. They didn’t want to get your hopes up in case it wasn’t God’s plan.”

“I’m shocked. I thought they’d never leave China.”

“I was praying they’d come. I knew you’d want family nearby, and… Anyway, the pandemic slowed everything down, but two years ago, their visas came through.”

“What about Renshu? Did he go too?”

A shadow crossed Ethan’s face.

“Did something happen? Is he okay?”

“As far as I know, your brother is fine.” He nodded forward. “We should keep moving.”

She started walking, still reeling from the information. It was good news, wonderful news, even if she was so surprised that she could hardly process it. Her parents had been happy for her to make a life in the West, but she’d thought they’d never leave China as long as Renshu was here.

“He works for the Party,” Ethan said behind her.

Ah. She sighed. “So he still doesn’t believe in God.” Her brother had been raised in the church, like her, but he’d always been skeptical. When he went to college, his skepticism had turned ugly. He’d once referred to the Christmas story as a children’s fairy tale. “I thought he was coming around.”

“He was, I guess. But then his sister died.”

She turned. “Did he care that much?” She shook her head. It was a stupid question. He was her brother. But after he’d left home, he’d kept his distance.

“He told your parents they worshipped a cruel and malicious God, that at least the Communists didn’t kill innocent people.”

“But they do! Often. Selective memory, my brother. Does he not remember Tiananmen Square? And all the others who are imprisoned or killed because they dare to disagree with the government?”

Ethan shrugged. “I assume he wouldn’t consider people protesting the government innocent.”

“Ach.” Frustration churned inside her. She turned and stalked forward. How ironic that Renshu had blamed God for her death when the government he loved so much had kept her imprisoned for six years because some doctor wanted to silence her.

“By the time your parents’ visas came through,” Ethan said, “they hadn’t seen or spoken to Renshu in years.”

“They must have grieved both of us.” At least now, they would get her back. “Where do they live?” Mama had a cousin in Vancouver. Maybe they’d settled in Seattle.

“They live in the house I grew up in, in Virginia.”

She stopped again, facing him. “They live with you?”

“I have an apartment near the hospital. The house is in Driftwood, about a half hour away. Gavin bought it for Mom and me to live in when I was a kid. It was in his name, but when I graduated from college, he gave it to me. It’d been empty ever since Mom got married and moved to Phoenix. I figured your parents would be comfortable there.”

He’d given her parents his house? Even when he’d thought she was dead and gone forever?

She wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed, barely able to speak. “I chose a good man.”

His hands settled on her hips. “They’re family. I love them.”

Her heart broke for Renshu, but maybe when she told him what happened, his mind would change.

Either way, she would go home to Virginia with her husband, and her parents would be waiting for her. She’d already looked forward to it, but now, she couldn’t get there fast enough.

The apartment building was three stories of weathered concrete tucked at the edge of a cornfield, now brown for the winter. Empty clotheslines crossed the balconies. The stench of coal fires overwhelmed the wet earth and fallen leaves.

Mei Lin crouched beside Ethan a few feet from the edge of the forest. The walk had been too much, and it was all she could do not to cuddle up with the dry leaves and fall asleep.

“Do you think we missed them?”

Ethan glanced at his watch. “They’ll be here.”