Days passed by, one after another, without Amara even realizing how quickly time was slipping away. Examinations were just around the corner, and she knew she had to do her due diligence — not just for herself, but for everyone rooting for her success.
She was painfully aware that messing up even one module could set her back for a long time, stripping away the confidence she had fought so hard to build. If only she knew that God had something in store for her — something that would turn her life completely around. When that day came, she would never be the same again.
Apart from shuttling between the hostel and campus, nothing particularly exciting ever happened. But one bright afternoon, her phone rang unexpectedly. She scanned the bed and her desk before finally spotting it.
"Hello?" she answered.
There was a pause — the kind that feels like hours when you're waiting for a voice. Then came a familiar tone, laced with concern.
"Sissy! How have you been? I'm sorry I couldn't check up on you the past few days. I got robbed — thieves took my phone and laptop," Loide said.
"It's okay, sis. I totally understand," Amara replied gently. "Besides, it's not like I don't have your number and couldn't reach out if something happened to me. So tell me — how's the city treating you, apart from the robbery? And how's everyone else?"
Loide, in her third year at UNAM's main campus, was staying in their late father's house — the one he had left under the care of their aunt after his retirement.
"Everyone's doing fine," Loide said. "I heard Pappa's been under the weather. Have you heard from Mama or Big Sis if it's true?"
Amara fell into a deep silence.
"Ama… are you there? Did I say something wrong?"
"Sis," Amara said at last, her voice taut, "I don't know about you people, but as for me, anything that has to do with that man — count me out."
"But Ama, this is our father we're talking about here, not just any man. Regardless of what he's done, he's still our father."
"As if I care," she snapped. "He can be sick for all I care — it doesn't concern me."
She quickly changed the subject, refusing to dwell on the wound her sister had just poked open.
The truth was, Amara did have a heart — but that man had taken it away from her long ago. He had left deep scars in her soul, wounds that never truly closed. Even the mere mention of his name felt like salt being rubbed into them. She was trying — truly trying — to heal, but her sisters kept dragging the past back into the present.
"Umhm… sis, I have to go now, I've got some work to do." Without waiting for Loide's response, she ended the call. She didn't mean to sound harsh, but if cutting off the conversation brought her peace, then she had no regrets.
On the other end, Loide let out a long sigh. She had expected the call to go this way, yet she still hoped for a different outcome. All she wanted was for her little sister to forgive — even just once. She understood Amara's pain; after all, Ama had been young when it all happened, and her anger was justified. But the bitterness had taken root too deep.
As Loide sat lost in thought, a voice brought her back.
"Don't blame yourself, sis. She'll be fine. I think the best thing for now is to let her be. She'll figure it out in her own time. This is beyond us," Danny, their elder brother, said matter-of-factly.
"You're right," she admitted quietly.
Back in Jose, Amara packed her school bag and rushed to the study center. She had planned to rest, but the conversation with Loide had left her unsettled. Studying was her therapy — her safe haven where pain faded and worries became distant echoes.
She buried herself in her books, page after page, problem after problem. Yet deep down, she wished God would send someone who could truly understand her — someone she could confide in, someone who could help lift the weight off her shoulders.
For now, her books were her only refuge. But life had a way of placing the right people in your path when you least expected it. And Amara's turn was coming — sooner than she could imagine.
That night, after hours of revision, she drifted into a restless sleep.