I jolted awake, gasping for air, the remnants of a nightmare still clinging to my skin like sweat. My chest rose and fell in quick, shallow breaths, as if I had been drowning in my sleep. The room was dim, lit only by the faint orange glow of the streetlamp filtering through the curtains. It was 5:00 a.m., and the silence outside felt too heavy—like the world itself was holding its breath.

Sleep abandoned me, so I dragged myself out of bed, my feet cold against the wooden floor. The creak of the floorboards beneath my feet seemed amplified in the stillness. In the kitchen, I filled the kettle and watched as steam began to rise. The soft whistle of boiling water felt like the only sound tethering me to the present. I poured it over a teabag and cradled the mug in my hands, hoping the warmth would chase away the chill inside me.

Still feeling uneasy, I changed into my jogging clothes. Maybe running would clear my mind, maybe I'd outrun the weight pressing on my chest. I set out just as the sky began to blush with the first hints of dawn. The air was crisp, with a hint of dew and morning promise. My feet pounded the pavement rhythmically—step, breath, heartbeat—until time slipped by unnoticed.

As I ran, my thoughts drifted to the past, to the memories I'd rather forget. But they lingered, like shadows in the corners of my mind. I pushed myself harder, trying to outrun the memories that haunted me. But they kept pace with me, their presence a constant reminder of what I'd endured.

At exactly 7:00 a.m., I slowed to a walk, the edge of exhaustion humming in my legs. Just as I turned the corner toward home, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I glanced at the screen. Auntie. My heart skipped a beat as I answered, wiping sweat from my brow. "Hello, Aunt?"

Her voice came through, low and cautious. "Chin... she's here again. She's been coming back for the past week." I stopped walking, my mind racing with questions. "Did she say anything?" I asked, trying to keep my voice steady.

"She's asking for your contact information. She wants to meet you—to beg for forgiveness again." A strange tightness gripped my chest. "She did?" I repeated, my voice barely above a whisper.

"She even told me why he did that to you," she said carefully. "I won't interfere. But... my only advice is—please don't hurt yourself." The line went quiet. I couldn't speak. My throat felt dry, as if her words had sucked all the air from the world around me.

After a moment, my aunt sighed deeply. That sigh said everything she didn't—her worry, her helplessness, her love. Then the call ended. And I stood there, still as stone, phone pressed to my ear, heart unraveling one silent second at a time.

The world around me seemed to fade away, leaving only the echoes of my aunt's words. I felt like I was drowning in a sea of emotions, unsure of how to keep my head above water. But I knew I had to keep moving forward, no matter how hard it got.

The day began like any other, with the morning air carrying a gentle, blissful calm. I opened the windows in my room, and a fresh breeze rushed in, filling the space with a sense of serenity. Yet, to me, it was just another ordinary day.

Our family is small, consisting of just three members. I’m the eldest, followed by my fifteen-year-old younger brother, and finally, our youngest—a lively, spirited five-year-old who brings boundless energy and joy to our home.

I started my day with the familiar rhythm of my morning routine. After freshening up, I made my way downstairs. The house was quiet, with only the soft creak of the stairs breaking the stillness of the early morning. In the kitchen, the cool air greeted me as I began preparing our usual breakfast. The comforting scent of brewing tea and toasting bread filled the space, signaling the start of yet another day.

“Sis! I finished bathing Nico!” Rafael called out as he stepped out of the bathroom, a towel draped over his shoulder. His little brother, Nicolas, was freshly bathed and giggling in his arms.

“Okay! I’m done cooking. I’ll get Nico dressed. Now, go take your bath!” she shouted back, turning off the gas and stove with a practiced hand.

“Got it!” Rafael gently placed Nico in his crib, ensuring he was safe and secure before heading off to take his bath.

After quickly arranging breakfast on the dining table, she made her way to Nicolas to help him get into his uniform. The little kindergartener sat on the edge of his bed, his bright eyes following her every move as she laid out his neatly folded clothes.

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains, illuminating the room with a warm, golden hue. She buttoned his shirt with practice ease, smoothing out the wrinkles before helping him into his shorts. Nicolas fidgeted with excitement, his small feet tapping the floor—ready for another day of adventure at school.

Francine took extra care preparing for her siblings’ first day of school, especially since Nicolas was starting kindergarten. She gently placed a small identification tag around his neck, making sure it held all the necessary details—including his guardian’s contact information. As she adjusted the tag, a wave of worry flickered in her mind. Just in case anything happens or he gets lost. She gave Nicolas a reassuring smile, determined to make sure he felt safe and ready for the day ahead.

“Rafael, listen to me,” Francine said, kneeling so her eyes met his. “Stay safe, okay? Don’t follow anyone you don’t know, and don’t accept anything from strangers—especially if they say it’s from me. There are bad people out there, even if some are good.” Her voice was steady, but the concern behind it was unmistakable.

“I understand, Sister. I’ll protect Nico too!” Rafael declared, puffing out his small chest with determination.

Francine’s expression softened as she reached out to gently ruffle his hair. “No, Rafa. That’s my job. I’ll protect both of you. But when I’m not around, you have to take care of yourself—and Nico. Promise me, okay?”

Rafael’s eyes lit up with pride. “Alright, Sis. I promise.”

“Me too!” Nicolas chimed in, hopping excitedly on his toes.

Francine laughed softly and swept him into her arms. “Yes, yes, Baby Nico. You too,” she said, planting a playful kiss on his cheek.

The morning light streamed through the window, wrapping the three of them in its warm embrace—a quiet, tender moment of love and safety before the day began.

Francine stood at the curb, watching as her brothers climbed into their school buses. She waved until both vehicles disappeared from view, the morning breeze carrying a sense of calm. Knowing she’d packed them simple but nutritious snacks earlier gave her peace of mind. With a final deep breath, she turned and headed back inside. It was now her time to prepare for the day—a quiet moment before the world stirred to life again.

A series of three knocks broke the quiet focus in the room. Francine paused mid-sentence, her pen hovering over a lesson plan as her gaze shifted toward the door. “Come in,” she called out, her tone curious but calm.

The door creaked open to reveal Jean, one of her fellow English teachers, stepping inside with a purposeful stride. Her face held a seriousness that immediately caught Francine’s attention.

“Ma’am Chin, there’s a meeting in the conference room in ten minutes. Mr. Miller just informed me,” Jean said, her voice clear and direct.

Francine, surrounded by a sea of papers, leaned back slightly in her chair. “Did the principal mention what the meeting was about? Any specific announcements?”

Jean gave a small shake of her head, a puzzled look crossing her face. “No, he didn’t say anything else.”

Their eyes met, and for a moment, the weight of their unfinished work seemed to dissolve. The air between them filled with quiet anticipation as they both silently wondered what could be so urgent on the first day of classes.

“Good afternoon, everyone. I apologize for the short notice,” Sir Thompson began, his composed, authoritative presence filling the conference room. He stood confidently at the front, hands clasped behind his back as his gaze swept over the group. “I know it’s the first day of classes, and many of you are busy with lesson plans and preparations. However, I have an important announcement to make.”

A wave of curiosity rippled through the room. Teachers exchanged glances—some puzzled, others concerned. Everything had gone smoothly in the months leading up to the school year, making the sudden meeting feel out of place.

“Sir Thompson, if I may,” Benjamin, one of the English teachers, spoke up with respectful curiosity. “Could you tell us what this meeting is about?”

“Of course,” Sir Thompson replied with a slight nod. “Miss Francine Dela Cruz has been serving as the acting head of the English Department, correct?”

“Yes, Sir,” Francine answered, straightening in her chair as all eyes briefly turned to her.

“I want to take a moment to thank you for your dedication and hard work, especially last school year,” Sir Thompson said warmly. His words carried genuine appreciation. “Now, as many of you are aware, Mr. Kenji Sato, our former department head, has relocated to Japan. Today, I’m pleased to announce his replacement.”

At that moment, the assistant principal, Mr. Miller, stepped forward to open the door. A tall figure entered—a man with broad shoulders and an air of quiet confidence, dressed impeccably in a tailored black suit. His stride was measured but commanding, and the room seemed to hold its breath as he approached.

The atmosphere shifted. Teachers sat a little straighter, eyes locked on the newcomer. There was something magnetic about his presence, as if the room had been waiting for this very moment. Anticipation buzzed in the air as they waited to hear what he would say—or perhaps, who he was.

During lunch break, the teachers, including those from the English Department, gathered in the faculty canteen. The atmosphere buzzed with chatter and the clinking of plates. Some teachers headed to the lounge area, settling into cushioned chairs with their meals to relax. Others disappeared into the coffee and tea room, where the aroma of freshly brewed drinks filled the air.

Francine found herself in the lounge area, laptop open on her lap and a steaming cup of coffee in hand. She sipped slowly, letting the warmth spread through her as she tried to refocus her thoughts. The familiar hum of conversation surrounded her, but it didn’t break her concentration—until Hanna, a math teacher and one of her closest friends, walked over with a curious glint in her eye.

“Chin, what happened?” Hanna asked, her tone laced with concern.

Francine glanced up, puzzled. “Huh? About what?” she asked, taking another sip.

“The meeting earlier,” Hanna clarified, her brows furrowing. “Weren’t you shocked? That was your chance to become the head of the English Department.”

Francine felt a slight jolt in her chest but kept her expression neutral. Before she could say anything, Ariane, a science teacher, joined the conversation, folding her arms across her chest.

“Honestly, that blindsided me too,” Ariane said, her tone thoughtful. “And Mr. Thompson didn’t even give you a heads-up. I respect him as the principal, but that felt unfair.”

Francine stared at her coffee, the steam rising lazily in front of her. She could feel their concern, their words stirring emotions she wasn’t ready to confront. The cozy lounge suddenly felt smaller, the air heavy with unspoken questions. As the conversation swirled around her, she couldn’t help but wonder if the path ahead had just changed without her realizing it.

“Come on, you know surprises like that don’t bother me anymore,” Francine said with a shrug, trying to downplay her emotions.

Hanna leaned in slightly, her eyes filled with concern. “Girl, don’t get used to this kind of thing. You know as well as we do—it’s not the first time.”

Ariane, sitting across from them, nodded in agreement. “We’re not saying this just because we’re frustrated. What’s done is done. But how many times has he taken advantage of your skills and dedication? You give your all, and he just brushes it aside. And it’s not just you—it’s happened to us too.”

Francine sighed quietly, the weight of their words sinking in. She swirled her coffee absentmindedly, lost in thought as the conversation hovered between frustration and understanding.

Suddenly, memories from five years ago flooded her mind—the painful surprise she never saw coming. Dominic, her ex-boyfriend, had been her anchor and her entire world. They were just eight months away from graduation when, without warning, he vanished. One day, he was there, solid and steady. The next, he was gone, leaving only silence and a void too deep to fill. It was as if he had disappeared into thin air, taking with him every dream they had built together.

The days that followed were unbearable. The weight of his absence crushed her—relentless and suffocating. Every breath was a battle; every attempt to move forward felt like dragging herself through quicksand. The person who had once made her heart race with happiness had now become the source of an all-consuming pain.

Nights were the worst—silent, endless hours where memories of him haunted her, refusing to let her rest.

In those bleak months, only one person had stood by her: Charlie, her best friend and childhood confidant. He had been her lifeline as she drowned in grief. Charlie was there when she forgot to eat, when she couldn’t bring herself to leave her room, or when all she could do was cry until her voice gave out. He sat with her in silence when words weren’t enough and reminded her, gently but firmly, to keep going.

Even now, the memory of Dominic’s sudden disappearance was a wound that hadn’t fully healed. It was a scar etched deep into her heart—a constant reminder of love lost and the pieces of herself she had fought so hard to put back together.

Francine snapped out of her thoughts when Hanna’s voice broke through the haze.

“Chin? Are you with us?” Hanna asked, leaning in with a look of concern.

“Huh? Oh… yeah, sorry,” Francine said, blinking as she tried to ground herself in the present.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Ariane chimed in, her voice gentle but probing.

Francine gave them a small, awkward smile. “Yeah, I’m fine.”

Hanna didn’t seem convinced. “So… what now? What’s the plan?” she pressed, her tone more curious than pushy.

Francine sighed, a mixture of exhaustion and acceptance settling over her. “I’m not planning anything. I tried before, but nothing changed.” She paused, looking down at her coffee cup as if it held answers. “Honestly, stepping down from the acting Head of the English Department is a relief. That role was exhausting.”

She took a sip of coffee, savoring the warmth before continuing. “Now, I’ve got more time for my younger siblings. And if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that sometimes, you just have to find the silver lining.”

Her voice was steady, but there was a quiet strength behind it. Hanna and Ariane exchanged glances. They could see the resolve in Francine’s eyes—the determination to move forward despite everything. Whatever weight she was carrying, she was learning how to carry it better.

And that, they knew, was enough for now.

At 4 o’clock in the afternoon, Francine’s aunt arrived to pick up her two grandchildren. Thankfully, both kids attended the same school and had identical class and dismissal schedules, which made things easier. The night before, Francine had told her aunt in advance that she wouldn’t be able to pick them up this time, as her work commitments had her tied up—even on weekends.

"Grandma!" they shouted with excitement as they ran out of the school gates, their voices carrying over the afternoon breeze.

"My precious little ones!" Their grandmother opened her arms wide, pulling them into a tight embrace filled with warmth and love. Laughter bubbled up as she held them close, the weight of time apart melting away in that moment. The children’s eyes sparkled, their happiness as bright as the sunlight filtering through the trees. It felt like no time had passed at all—the world around them seemed to pause, leaving only the joy of their reunion.

“We missed you so much, Grandma!” Rafael exclaimed, his face glowing with excitement.

“I missed you too, my dear! It’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, hasn’t it?” she responded with a broad smile, gently ruffling his hair.

“Yes!” Nicolas jumped in eagerly, his little feet practically bouncing off the ground as his happiness bubbled over.

Their grandmother’s laughter filled the air, wrapping them all in a joyful embrace that seemed to make the whole world brighter.

“My, my! My cutest grandson Nicolas is so happy!” their grandmother said with a wide smile, pulling him into a warm embrace.

“Grandma, Nico’s been waiting since last night,” Rafael added with a playful chuckle. “My sister had a tough time getting him to sleep because he was too excited.”

Their grandmother laughed heartily, her eyes full of affection. “Oh, my sweet little one. Don’t worry—Grandma’s here now.”

Nicolas giggled, holding onto her tightly as if he’d never let go. The air was filled with a special kind of joy—the kind only family can bring.

When they arrived home, their grandmother immediately sent a message to Francine to let her know they were safe. Along with the message, she attached a cheerful photo of the children, their faces beaming with happiness. It was her way of easing Francine’s worries—a simple but thoughtful gesture filled with love.

Their grandmother had lived a life shaped by resilience. Once an elementary school teacher, she became a widow at a young age, with only her memories and an aching heart to accompany her. But at thirty-five, she made a life-changing decision: she opened a fried chicken restaurant. It wasn’t just about starting a business—it was a step toward healing, a symbol of hope after profound loss. Slowly, the laughter of customers and the aroma of freshly cooked meals helped soothe her grief.

Her grandchildren brought her a light that no one else could. Their playful giggles and warm hugs mended the cracks in her heart. They weren’t just her family—they were her joy, her reason to smile every day. And through all her struggles, her only child remained her steady support, helping her navigate the darkest moments with unwavering love and care.

Now, as she stood in her cozy home, surrounded by the sounds of playful chatter and the warmth of family, she felt peace settle deep within her. This home wasn’t just built with bricks and walls—it was built with love, resilience, and the unyielding strength of a family that refused to let loss define them.

The dim light from the evening sky filtered through the small windows of the faculty room, casting a soft glow on the scattered papers and empty chairs. It was nearly eight o’clock, and the once bustling room was now quiet, a few teachers having already headed home for the day.

Francine was lost in her thoughts, carefully packing her bag and organizing her materials, the hum of the fluorescent lights the only sound that kept her company. The soft buzz of her phone broke her concentration for a moment, and she smiled as she read the message from her Aunt Mabelle, with pictures of her siblings flashing across the screen.

She hadn’t even noticed the soft knock at the door. When it came again, she jumped slightly, her heart racing for a moment. Blinking, she looked up, and there, standing in the doorway, was a figure she hadn’t expected to see so late.