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M: TSIA Chapter 48: Zooey
🕑 Added 2025-01-07 12:10:37 +0000 UTC"Where is Mitat Yilmaz?" Lance asked directly, without any small talk.
"I let Mitat go," Ethan replied calmly, his voice sounding flat as usual.
Lance didn't seem surprised. "For his daughter?"
Ethan sighed softly before answering, "For his family. At least I can learn from Mitat about how to maintain a relationship with family."
A faint smile appeared on Lance's face. "You're retired, Ethan. After this mission is over, you'll have plenty of time to mend your relationship with your family."
"I hope so," Ethan replied, but his tone grew deeper. Although last night he had felt a glimmer of hope from the effects of the experimental drug on his brain tumor, a sense of pessimism still dominated Ethan's thoughts.
Lance noticed the change in Ethan's tone. Not wanting to linger on the grim conversation, Lance quickly shifted the topic. "Shall we go catch Albino now?"
"Yes," Ethan answered after a brief pause. "But you need to pick me up. I only have one bike, and I have to drop my daughter off at school first."
"No problem," Lance replied casually. Besides Brynhildr, Lance also had an old Ford pickup truck that hadn't been used in a while.
After hanging up, Lance quickly finished his breakfast. He asked Brynhildr to watch the house before starting up his pickup truck. After ensuring the vehicle was still in good working order, Lance drove toward Ethan's ex-wife's house.
Ethan was a man who had spent most of his life carrying out missions abroad. That lifestyle, though full of dedication, had strained Ethan's relationship with his wife over time. Ethan's ex-wife, who had long grown weary of Ethan's prioritization of his work, ultimately chose to divorce him a few years ago.
After the divorce, Ethan hardly ever returned to his home country. Ethan's old house was now occupied by a family of illegal black immigrants who had nowhere to live. Seeing their condition, Ethan felt pity and gave the house to them. He considered it a form of redemption for the time and relationships he had squandered over the years.
However, Ethan himself began to realize that his life was running out. He decided to return to his homeland with one goal: to mend his relationship with his ex-wife and daughter. Ethan requested permission to stay temporarily at his ex-wife's house, hoping to spend time with them in the remainder of his life.
Unfortunately, that plan had not yet come to fruition. Vivi, an agent working for Ethan's old organization, suddenly appeared and forced Ethan back into the field. Vivi brought direct orders from superiors, leaving Ethan with no choice but to postpone his intentions to repair his family relationships.
When Lance arrived in the neighborhood, he saw Ethan from a distance.
Ethan appeared to be struggling to carry a purple bicycle—a gift he had bought years ago. The bike was Zooey's choice, Ethan's daughter, when Zooey was just nine years old. Purple was Zooey's favorite color at the time, and Ethan bought it hoping to please his daughter.
However, time had changed many things. Zooey was now a rebellious teenage girl, and the purple bicycle, along with all the memories attached to it, seemed to have become a symbol of foolishness in her eyes.
Ethan followed Zooey from behind, calling out softly, "Zooey, don't you want to ride your bike to school? It's faster than walking."
Zooey, a red-haired girl with a face full of impatience, didn't even glance at her father. Instead, she continued walking, swinging her school bag over her shoulder. Rather than answering Ethan's question, Zooey threw out another completely unexpected question. "Do you think Hugh will like my hair color?"
Ethan paused for a moment, holding his breath before answering gently, "Yes."
Zooey shot him a skeptical look. "Really?" she asked, her tone full of doubt.
"Really," Ethan replied, nodding.
However, Zooey was not satisfied. She stopped abruptly, turned to face Ethan, and asked again, "Does Hugh really like my hair color?"
Ethan took a deep breath, trying to maintain a relaxed tone. "As long as Hugh likes you, he must like your hair color too."
That answer seemed to satisfy Zooey for the moment. But Ethan knew, deep down, that he had given in to his daughter's persistent requests. The old man not only failed to gain his daughter's attention or respect, but now he was also trapped in the role of boosting Zooey's confidence—the confidence she needed to attract the attention of a young man whom Ethan didn't even know.
However, Zooey's focus suddenly shifted. She looked at her father sharply, with a mysterious expression. "So," Zooey said slowly, "you don't like my hair color?"
Ethan was taken aback. The question hit him like an unexpected blow. "Uh, yeah," Ethan replied unconsciously, his voice sounding hesitant.
For an old man nearing fifty, seeing such a striking hair color was truly a challenge to his aesthetic sensibilities. However, if his beloved daughter insisted on dressing that way, Ethan could only weakly accept it, even though his heart ached.
"Ah!" Ethan reacted quickly and spoke hurriedly, trying to mend the situation, "Zooey, I mean, I like it. I really like how you dress."
Zooey, walking with a firm stride, seemed not to hear her father. With a little dramatic flourish, she raised her hand, removed her red wig, and revealed her long brown hair underneath.
"Because you like it, I don't like it!" Zooey said in a mocking tone, a teasing smile appearing at the corners of her lips.
The rebellious girl turned around, carrying her small red backpack, and hurried away, leaving Ethan standing there with a sour smile on his face. Ethan paused for a moment, gripping the mailbox on the street, and coughed a few times.
Lance, who had been watching the scene for a while, simply shook his head without saying a word. Slowly, Lance parked the pickup truck next to Ethan, opened the passenger door, and said calmly, "I'm sorry."
Ethan coughed hard again, trying to brush away the sadness in his eyes.
