My Brother Actually "Resurrected" After His Death

My Brother Passed Away Overseas

My brother passed away while he was abroad.

When Mom and Dad called to tell me, they were heartbroken.

I couldn't say no, so I agreed to cover the 100,000 dollars for the funeral and give them 5,000 dollars a month for support.

But just when I was starting to come to terms with it—

My brother "rose from the dead."

***

"Jess, honey, something terrible happened in Italy... he's gone..."

My mom called me, tears choking her voice.

Three days later, I couldn't get my visa sorted out because of paperwork issues, so I could only drop my parents off at the airport.

My brother's health was always a challenge.

Growing up, Mom would save the yolk for him, claiming it was too fattening for girls but that egg whites were great for the skin.

He always seemed to struggle with each bite, and it often broke my heart to see him like that.

Throughout college, he was constantly in and out of the hospital. Even though we were miles apart, Mom would often hint at how much his medical bills were whenever she called.

After hanging up, I'd send half of my scholarship and grant money back home.

After graduation, I quickly found a job.

But due to his health issues, my brother remained unemployed at home—no company would hire him.

The money I sent home, Dad would always try to send some of it back, but I never took it.

Over the years, my parents were quite attentive to me.

I understood their plight—my brother's illness made them look much older than their peers.

This time, he went abroad for treatment, thanks to a relative's introduction.

They had found a top-notch doctor who might have a cure.

When my brother called from overseas, his voice was soft. He'd ask if I was okay, and if I had enough to get by.

Even when I only had 1,000 dollars left after sending him money for treatment, I'd assure him I was fine, just got a bonus.

But his calls started to become less frequent.

Months would pass without a word from him.

My parents would only mention that his condition was unstable and the doctors advised rest.

His sudden passing seemed to shatter my parents.

Their red, swollen eyes before they boarded the plane tore me apart.

"Mom, don't worry about the money, just focus on getting there."

The cost of funerals abroad was staggering, and when they mentioned it, they seemed embarrassed.

I borrowed 100,000 dollars from a friend and wired it before they landed.

My brother had been away from home for so long; he probably missed it terribly.

Back at work, my colleagues noticed my worn-out look and asked if I was alright.

I smiled and shook my head, "It's nothing. Just burned the midnight oil last night and overslept a bit today."

I received a text from a friend, "Dinner tonight? I want you to meet someone."

Recalling my parents' stern instructions to keep my brother's death under wraps before they boarded, I quickly responded, "Sure, send me the details."

It seemed like my friends were always trying to set me up at the worst possible times—like when I was jobless, when my brother went abroad for treatment, and now, today.

My parents rarely pried into my love life, but my friends were all over it.

I arrived at the restaurant for dinner, and from across the room, my friend beckoned, "Jess, over here!"

Beside her sat a man in a sleek, modern jacket, his silver-framed glasses adding to his cool aura.

"Jess, this is Alex Ravin, a grad student from my project team. He just got back from studying medicine in Italy."

A medical student from Italy, huh?