Julie ran down the hallway toward her father's room, her heart pounding wildly in her chest. Her brother's voice echoed behind her, urging her to hurry—there were only hours left before their father would be gone.
"Daddy, Daddy… please wait for me," she whispered under her breath, praying as she reached for the door. Her trembling fingers twisted the doorknob. When it opened, the only sound she heard was the frantic beating of her own heart. Her throat was dry; she could only swallow emptily.
"Julie, my child," came her father's weak voice.
She froze, her breath catching. The sight before her made her chest ache—her father lying pale and frail on the bed, still trying to smile through his pain.
"Dad," she whispered, rushing to his side and wrapping her arms around him. He responded with a soft, tired laugh.
Julie's eyes traced every change in his face—every shadow, every line carved by pain. Tears streamed down her cheeks uncontrollably.
"Child, don't cry," he murmured gently, brushing her tears away with his roughened hand. "I want to see your happy smile when I go."
"How can I smile when you're like this, Dad?" she sobbed, clutching him tightly as if her grip could hold back time.
Even in his weakness, he managed to tousle her hair and draw her close. "Stop crying. If you keep this up, who'll be there to wipe your tears when I'm gone?" he said softly.
Julie shook her head, unable to accept what was coming. Denial wrapped around her like a blanket, keeping her from facing the truth.
"Look at me, Julie," her father said.
Through her tears, she met his gaze. He cupped her face with trembling hands.
"Always be happy, okay?" he whispered. "Don't frown, don't throw tantrums, and don't fight with your brother, Chris. Someday, find someone who'll love you with all their heart. I know you're afraid of being hurt again, but trust me—you'll find someone who truly loves you."
He paused, struggling for breath but still smiling faintly. "And one more thing… when you reach ninth grade, transfer to your brother's school. Stay close to him."
Julie's lips quivered. "But Dad, I don't like private school. I—"
"I know," he interrupted softly. "You've had bad experiences before, but I know you can handle whatever comes your way. That's my wish—to see you and your brother together."
"Dad… I'll do it," Julie promised, her voice trembling. "I'll go to that school—but please, don't leave us. I still need you."
Her father's breathing grew shallow.
"D-Dad? Are you okay?" she asked frantically, turning to her mother, who was silently crying in the corner, and to her brother, who stood frozen, grief etched across his face.
"Mommy, Dad's having trouble breathing! I'll call the nurse!" Julie shouted, wiping at her tears.
Her father turned weakly toward his eldest. "Chris… take care of your mother and sister when I'm gone."
Chris only nodded, his throat too tight to speak. Nurses rushed in, trying to stabilize their father.
"Daddy…" Julie's voice cracked. Chris held her arm gently while their mother clutched their father's hand, sobbing quietly.
"Take care of them, okay? It'll be hard… but I know you can," their father whispered to Chris.
"Dad! Don't say that! You'll fight! You'll get better!" Julie cried desperately.
But her father only smiled. Despite the nurses' efforts, his body weakened with each passing second.
"No… no," Julie whispered over and over, shaking her head. "I was still talking to you… it's not fair… not fair, Dad…" She collapsed beside him, sobbing uncontrollably as her mother's cries filled the room. Someone pulled her into an embrace, holding her as if to keep her from breaking.
"Time of death: 4:45 PM," the doctor announced.
"D—Dad!" Julie screamed, her voice breaking.
Her brother pulled her close as nurses covered their father's body with a white sheet. She fought against it, shaking her head in disbelief. Her mother wrapped her arms around her, crying into her shoulder.
The world felt like it had stopped.
*****
"It's Tito's last wake, right?" Dave asked quietly.
His younger brother, Cielo, nodded as they prepared to attend the service that evening. The Villanueva family, close to the Navares, shared in their grief.
Cielo, still in grade eight, sat silently in the car, scrolling through his phone.
"I hope Jesca's doing okay," his mother said softly. "She cried so much when we visited… and I didn't see her youngest daughter. I bet she's heartbroken too."
"Jesca will be fine," his father replied with a sigh. "She's strong."
His mother nodded faintly. "Yes… a strong-willed woman."
When they arrived at the Navares home, the solemn atmosphere hit them immediately. The parking area was full, and the quiet murmurs of mourners filled the air.
"Let's go," his parents said gently. Dave stepped out first, followed by Cielo, who slipped his phone into his pocket.
A woman greeted them at the entrance.
"Aunt," Dave said politely, bowing his head.
Despite her grief, she smiled faintly and thanked them. Inside, Chris greeted the guests, offering quiet nods of appreciation.
"Condolences," Dave said softly.
Cielo looked around the room, recognizing some familiar faces—classmates Jonathan and Jason, and their cousins Kenneth and Joel—each wearing the same heavy sadness.
"Where's your younger sister?" Dave asked Chris quietly.
"She's been in her room for days," Chris replied.
"She was close to Uncle," Dave murmured. "I hope she's okay."
Cielo had never met her. All he knew was that she studied in a public school and was said to be spoiled by her father's affection. He tried to recall any memory of her but couldn't.
Needing air, he stepped outside to the small garden. That's when he saw her.
A young girl sat on the swing, dressed in mourning black, humming softly. Her voice was tender, but the sorrow in it was unmistakable.
"Julie, Mom's looking for you," a voice called from behind—it was Chris. "Uncle and Aunt are waiting."
"Later, big brother," she replied quietly, not looking up. Her fingers gripped the swing's rope as her eyes lifted toward the dimming sky.
Chris approached her, brushing back a few strands of her hair. She stood slowly and whispered to the heavens, "Dad… where are you among the stars now?"
Cielo froze, watching her from afar. The ache in her voice lingered in the air. He turned away as the service began and accidentally bumped into someone entering the house.
"Sorry," the girl murmured.
"No problem… you must be Julie," Cielo said softly.
She nodded weakly, her voice barely audible. "Yeah… excuse me."
As she stepped inside, her mother pulled her into an embrace. For a brief moment, Cielo's and Julie's eyes met — hers red from crying, filled with a pain he couldn't name.
"She really does look like her," Cielo thought, frowning slightly as the sound of prayer began.