Everything began with an unexpected accident. And from that day on, the once noisy streets turned strangely silent in Emma's ears.
She sat beneath a tree, the sun beating down relentlessly. From where she sat, she could see their home, it's a small two-story building, simple and quiet.
In her hand was the letter her late father left her. Only weeks had passed since his death, yet their life had already fallen apart. Their family business, built by her grandparents decades ago, had collapsed. They were drowning in debt. And the worst part? No one could explain why.
"Why did time feel so fast?" That was the question replaying in her mind. Everything had happened in a blur, as if she had been standing still while the world sped past her.
One rainy afternoon, her mother arrived home drenched and out of breath, as if she had sprinted all the way home.
"Pack your things. Now. We're leaving."
No questions, no hesitation. Emma simply obeyed. Somehow, she already had an idea why her mother was trembling. Could this be because of the syndicate her father was once involved with?
Emma shook her head. Maybe she was overthinking. But if it was true, then running was the safest thing they could do.
"Emma, we're here. Wake up."
Emma stirred awake as her mother gently shook her shoulder. The unfamiliar road outside greeted her, thick trees on both sides, the sky dark and heavy even though it was only three in the afternoon.
Their vehicle turned into a gray, two-story house. Old, a bit worn, but still standing proudly. She recognized it, it was her grandmother Bettie's house. She hadn't been here since she was five. Who would've thought her father's disappearance would bring her back?
"Get down and help me with the bags," her mother said.
Emma did as she was told. They didn't bring much, just enough clothes for a week.
"Mom… won't Aunt Malyn look for us?" Emma asked hours later as they sat at the small dining table, finally resting after cleaning the house.
Her mother stiffened.
"She won't look for us anymore," she said firmly. Too firmly. A warning.
Emma only nodded and drank the warm milk in front of her.
Her mother handed her an envelope. "I only brought a few of your clothes, so make this work first."
Inside was three thousand pesos.
"For what?"
"For your things. I still haven't withdrawn from the bank. Tomorrow, Apo Penang will take you to the market to buy what you need."
Emma accepted the envelope silently. Tomorrow, she would have to meet people, strangers. She didn't know whether to be happy or terrified. They were poor now. There was no denying it. So Emma simply embraced whatever life handed her.
---
The next morning, a tricycle arrived. A woman around her fifties stepped down.
"Apo Penang," Emma's mother greeted, bowing to take her hand.
Her mother shot her a look, so Emma quickly did the same.
"This must be Emmanella?" the old woman smiled warmly. "Your daughter is beautiful."
Her mother beamed. "Of course. She's my daughter."
They chatted in the living room, while Emma quietly observed the yard outside, trees everywhere, a strong cool breeze, fresher than any air-conditioning she had ever felt.
Maybe… maybe I can survive here. She took out her iPad, only to find there was no WiFi.
Her shoulders dropped. I take it back. I cannot survive without signal.
Bored out of her mind, she wandered around the yard taking random pictures even though there wasn't much worth photographing.
Hours passed before her mother called her. Apo Penang smiled at her. "Get your shoulder bag, Emma. You're coming with me. Your mama has something to settle at the barangay."
During the tricycle ride, the old woman asked her a gentle question. "Are you familiar with the market here in Lerio?"
Emma shook her head. "This is my first time, Apo Penang."
"Then I'll let my granddaughter Jonah accompany you."
Emma simply nodded. They arrived at a small cement house. A girl around her age welcomed them.
"Lola!" She took the old woman's hand, then turned to Emma. "Oh, you brought someone."
"Yes. She's the daughter of your Lolo Tasyo's former employers. They're a good family, don't you dare give her trouble."
"Lola! You'll make her think I'm rude!" Jonah laughed, then smiled warmly at Emma. "Come inside. It's too hot out there, you might get darker."
Emma laughed softly, and the two gradually warmed up to each other.
"You've seriously never been to the market?" Jonah asked, shocked.
Emma only nodded. Given her previous life, it wasn't surprising. Jonah excused herself to change. Minutes later, she emerged with an empty bag.
"You're buying something too?" Emma asked.
"Mm-hmm. Come on. It's just a short walk."
To Jonah, the path was "short." To Emma, it felt like five laps around the school gym. Still, she didn't complain. If anything, she was grateful Jonah was with her. They chatted happily until they reached the main road and caught a tricycle easily.
Soon, they arrived in town. People everywhere. The first thing Emma noticed was the old Spanish-style church, it was grand, ancient, and breathtaking.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" Jonah said proudly. "The mayor takes good care of it."
Emma nodded, awe-struck. They bought the things they needed, and she didn't realize how much time had passed until her stomach began to hurt. It was already noon.
Jonah heard it loud and clear. "Let's eat first." The fast food place was crowded with students. They squeezed into a corner table. "You order first," Jonah said, handing her the menu.
"And you?"
Jonah chuckled awkwardly. "I already ate. And I… well, I only brought enough money for what we need. Sorry."
Emma smiled. "Then I'll treat you. As thanks for helping me."
Jonah's face fell. "You're not… pitying me, right? Because we're poor? I don't want you to think I'm taking advantage of you."
Emma shook her head. "Of course not. You helped me. Let me return the favor."
Jonah hesitated, but eventually agreed. Their conversation was cut short when four male students entered the restaurant. Their uniforms were striking, unlike anything the other students wore. They sat at a nearby table.
Whispers rippled across the room, some scared, others excited. Jonah gripped Emma's arm tightly.
"Table 18 please. Thanks," Jonah said quickly at the counter, then rushed back to her seat, dragging Emma with her.
Only when they were both seated, Jonah speak again.
"No matter what happens, Emma… don't look them in the eyes."
Emma blinked.
"Why?"
Jonah looked terrified. "Just don't. Especially the one wearing glasses."
Emma remembered him, the strange aura he carried, the quiet dominance in the room. Something about them was… unnatural.
"You mean the guy with the white shawl?"
Jonah nodded, squinting suspiciously.
"You're… not attracted to them?"
Emma shook her head. "No."
"Good," Jonah whispered dramatically. She leaned closer. "There are rumors… that they're killers. Especially the one with the glasses."
Emma swallowed hard. Killers? In uniform? Walking freely?
Their food arrived, and Emma sighed in relief, until she felt a stare. A sharp, piercing stare. She looked up instinctively and froze.
The boy with the glasses was staring at her. His eyes glowed faint gold behind the reflection of his lenses. A faint smirk crossed his lips before he looked away.
Emma's breath hitched. I wasn't staring at him… He was the one looking at me. Her chest tightened with fear, until the hunger kicked in again and she forced herself to calm down.
When her drink arrived, there was a small folded note placed on her tray. Confused, she opened it.
'I see… you're looking at me, huh.'
Emma's heart dropped.