The mysterious man left Charlene at the large hospital, and she never saw him again after that. The air outside was cold, brushing lightly against her face as she walked out through the emergency entrance. The nurses had attended to her, following the man's instructions.
"Ma'am, none of your bones are broken, so you can relax now," the nurse said with a smile after Charlene had spent a long time complaining about the pain. Her eyes were almost closing from exhaustion and irritation.
"Are you sure? It still hurts a little…" Charlene said, trying to suppress a groan.
"Ma'am, what would be the point of me being a nurse if I wasn't sure?" the woman replied, clearly close to losing her patience. "Is there anything else you need?"
"No. Thank you," Charlene answered softly, lowering her head as she leaned against the wall.
"You're welcome," the nurse said before walking away.
After a while, Charlene decided to leave the hospital and continue her search for work—or at least for a place to stay. But night had already fallen, and nothing had changed. The streetlights flickered, casting faint light over the dark streets. Her stomach ached with hunger, but she couldn't afford to spend the little money she had left. It was reserved for rent—if she ever found a place.
Exhausted, she sat down in front of a large restaurant and closed her eyes, letting the warm, delicious scent of food surround her. She could almost taste the fresh bread, grilled meat, and rich spices drifting out from inside. Her mouth watered, but all she could do was endure the hunger and stop herself from buying even a small dish.
She slipped her hands into the pockets of her thick jacket as the cold slowly crept into her body. Her fingers brushed against something. When she pulled it out, she found the business card given to her by the man who had almost run her over earlier.
She remembered that she could call him if she needed anything—but then she realized she had no phone credit left. Annoyed, she put the card back into her pocket and lowered her head. It felt as though Manila itself was rejecting her. She never imagined it would be this hard to find a place to live or a job when you had no connections, especially in a city overflowing with people and endless hurry.
Across the street, Mr. Kerill Wang and his family were having dinner in the very restaurant in front of which Charlene was sitting. Warm lights reflected off wine glasses and silverware. With him were his younger brother, Lander; their father, Winito Wang; and their grandfather, Mr. Win, who had just arrived from the United States and invited them all out for dinner.
"How's your business, Kerill?" Mr. Win asked, adjusting the cuff of his jacket as he watched his grandson eat in silence.
Kerill lifted his gaze and took a sip of water before replying. "We're doing just fine, Mr. Win."
"But I heard your sales dropped by one percent because of a rival brand's new design," the old man said sharply. "You do realize how big one percent is in your company's ranking, don't you?"
"Dad—" Winito tried to interrupt, but one look from Mr. Win silenced him.
"You need to learn where you failed, kid. Being at the top doesn't last forever."
"I know," Kerill replied, his voice calm, though tension tightened his chest.
Silence followed, broken only by the clink of cutlery. Lander, who was already used to these tense family dinners, looked bored.
"Oh, right," Mr. Win said suddenly. "You're turning thirty this month. When are you planning to get married?"
"That's not on my list," Kerill answered flatly as he cut into his steak.
"Oh no, it has to be. Your children are growing up. They need a mother—"
"I'm here. I'm enough to raise them," Kerill said firmly. "I have no plans to get married."
"But I do—" Mr. Win cut in.
"I know many people in the U.S.," he continued. "I've met their granddaughters. I think you'll like them once you—"
"Dad, let him—"
"Enough, Winito," Mr. Win snapped. "You're too soft on him. Look at him now—he'll grow old alone."
"I don't need a wife—"
"But your children need a mother," Mr. Win said, making Kerill freeze. "You know how it feels to grow up without one. Do you want the same for your kids? Or are you still hoping Monica will come back?"
Kerill's fists clenched at the mention of the woman he once loved.
"She's not coming back," Mr. Win continued coldly. "You will marry one of the women I choose—or else—"
"Or else what?" Kerill shot back as he stood up. "You can't decide who I marry. I'd rather marry someone who walks through that door than one of the women you choose for me. I'm not a child anymore!"
He stormed toward the exit, his entire body tense with anger.
But the moment he opened the door, a woman collapsed right in front of him. He caught her just in time, her body falling into his arms. Cold air brushed against his skin, while the warm scent of food from the restaurant surrounded them.
"Guess you have to marry that girl…" Mr. Win muttered behind him.
Slowly, the woman lifted her face—and cursed when she realized who he was. She was the same woman he had almost run over earlier. The one he had taken to the hospital.
Charlene.
"I'm hungry… food… I need food…" she murmured before losing consciousness, her weight sinking fully into Kerill's arms.