IN MY BROTHER'S SHADOW

Samuel

The phone vibrated in my pocket. At first, I ignored it. It was probably one of those unbearable advertisements that invade our lives. But, before putting it back on silent, a strange feeling made me take it out. My gaze fell on the screen: “Saint Joseph Hospital”. An icy chill ran through me.

I picked up the phone, a slight apprehension twisting my stomach. “Hello?” My voice trembled, I didn't know why. There was no reason to be afraid, was there?

“Hello, Mr. Lemoine, this is Dr. Moreau from Saint-Joseph Hospital. We have some news about your brother, Alexandre.”

My heart stopped beating, I couldn't hear anything around me anymore. The world seemed to stop. Alexandre. My brother. The one I had spent my entire childhood with. The one I had just found again after years of separation. Impossible. It wasn't possible.

“He... he passed away.” The doctor's voice seemed to echo in an unreal distance. Time seemed to stand still around me. I felt nauseous, and I had to stop myself from collapsing on the spot. The doctor went on, but I could only hear a few snatches. ”He was found this morning... in a neighborhood... in... complicated circumstances.”

I hung up, too upset to react further. My gaze fixed on the phone, then on the horizon, as if by looking outside, I could make this reality less harsh. But nothing had changed. He was gone. My brother. There was no doubt about it. The brutality of the news hit me in the face, suffocated me. I refused it. I wanted to scream, but no words would come out.

I felt like a stranger in my own skin. Alexandre... my brother. The man with whom I had shared years of my life. I couldn't believe he was dead, and yet everything around me confirmed it. But why? Why now, after all this time? Why, just as we had finally started to get back together? And why under such circumstances? I knew that his past was not simple, that he had taken dark paths. But from there to being killed...

I shook my head, as if, with a gesture, I could chase away these invading thoughts. I had to know. I had to know. I wasn't going to leave this question unanswered. I couldn't.

The journey to the hospital was a sort of trance. I drove without really thinking, my thoughts monopolized by this haunting idea: Who did this? I needed to understand. But deep down, another thought grew, even more insistent: I can't let it go like that. My brother didn't deserve that. I had to know. I had to investigate, search, look. I had no choice.

When I finally arrived at the hospital, I felt even more like a stranger. Everything seemed so normal, as if nothing had just happened. The nurses were chatting as they went about their business, the machines beeped. The cold light of the neon signs hit my face. Nothing here seemed to correspond to what had just happened to me. I was lost, completely lost.

I followed the path I was shown, like an automaton. It was a place I knew well, yet today it seemed to be rejecting me. The corridor smelled of steel and disinfectant. It was so different from a children's hospital. It had become a cold, ruthless place, where you enter with expectations, but where you come out changed, often broken.

When I arrived at the morgue, the medical examiner was waiting for me. An imposing man with an indecipherable gaze. He greeted me with a nod and opened the door. Everything was happening so slowly, like in a dream where time is distorted. When I saw my brother's body, a shiver ran through me. It was him, and yet it was no longer him.

Alexandre was there, lying on a metal table, too pale, too cold. His face looked strange, even though I could still recognize all his features, the shape of his nose, the curve of his lips. But he was no longer alive. There was no longer that gleam behind his eyes. He was no longer there. He was no more.

A muffled scream rose in my throat. I couldn't believe it. He had left me. He had gone in a way that I could neither understand nor accept. Why? How? I couldn't let him go without an answer. It wasn't fair. I found myself facing a wall of silence, a cold and icy wall.

I approached my brother's body, my hands trembling. I wanted to touch him, shake him, wake him up. But nothing changed. He was dead, and I stood there, not knowing what to do.

“I'm going to find out the truth,” I whispered, but the voice I heard wasn't even my own. It seemed to come from a distant place, a place where emotions could no longer exist. ”I'm going to find out who did this to you.”

I was angry. I was lost. But I knew one thing: I couldn't accept this ending for him. I wasn't going to let him go like that. There had to be someone, something, that could give me an answer. And if I had to step into my brother's shoes to get that truth, then I would.

I sat up straight, my gaze fixed and determined. I couldn't do it alone, but there were people in his life. His wife. His son. I knew they might have answers. I had to see them. But I had to do more than that. I needed more than clues. I needed to understand what had really happened.

Then a plan formed in my head, silent but powerful. I would have to take my brother's place, become Alexandre in the eyes of his family. Maybe then the truth would come out, maybe I would finally know who was responsible for all this. But most of all, I would know why he had left so suddenly.

A shiver ran down my spine at the thought. But one thing was certain: I wasn't going to let them get away with it. I wasn't going to abandon my brother. Not until I had an answer.