Surrender

CHAPTER NINE

The call came early in the morning, before sunrise, when the world was still half-asleep.

Jessica’s phone buzzed against her pillow, dragging her out of a shallow dream. She blinked, groggy, squinting at the screen. Rowena.

Her chest tightened. Her sixteen-year-old sister never called unless it was something serious.

She answered quickly, voice thick with sleep. “Wena? Why are you calling this early?”

There was a pause. Then a small, trembling voice. “Ate, Mamang’s tired again.”

Jessica sat up, instantly awake. “What do you mean tired? Did she get sick?”

“No,” Rowena said softly. “She’s fine. She just… she’s been taking laundry jobs from the neighbors. Even the ones that don’t pay much. She said it’s to help with the hospital bill.”

Jessica rubbed her eyes. “She shouldn’t be doing that. Her hands are already—”

“I told her that!” Rowena interrupted, her voice cracking. “But she said she has to. She said the hospital gave Papang a paper. They said if we don’t pay by next week, they’ll file a complaint.”

Jessica’s stomach dropped. “Next week?”

“Yes. Papang’s been borrowing money again, but no one wants to lend anymore. Everyone knows we still owe the pharmacy.” Rowena sniffled. “Mamang said not to tell you because she doesn’t want you to worry. But I don’t know what else to do, Ate.”

Jessica closed her eyes, her throat tightening. “You did the right thing, Wena. Don’t worry about anything, okay? I’ll handle it.”

“How?” Rowena whispered.

Jessica didn’t answer. She just forced a steady tone. “I’ll find a way. I promise.”

When the call ended, Jessica sat on the edge of her bed, her heart pounding so hard it hurt. The room was still dark, her roommates asleep, unaware that the world had just tilted beneath her feet.

By sunrise, she was already pacing the small common area, her hands shaking.She hadn’t eaten. She hadn’t even changed out of her sleepwear.

When Ate Mara stepped out of her room, still half-asleep and holding a mug of instant coffee, Jessica turned to her.

“Ate,” she said quickly. “I need to talk to you.”

Mara stopped mid-sip. “What happened?”

“It’s my family,” Jessica said, voice trembling. “The hospital’s giving them a week to pay. My mom’s working herself to death just to cover the balance. I can’t, I can’t just stay here and do nothing.”

Mara’s expression hardened. “What are you asking me, Jess?”

Jessica swallowed hard, her voice barely steady. “Get me connected again. The man from the call. I need to take the offer.”

Mara set her cup down slowly. “Are you sure?”

Jessica nodded, tears burning her eyes. “I don’t have a choice. Please. Just help me reach him again. I’ll do it. I’ll do anything. But it has to be this week.”

Mara studied her for a long moment, quiet, unreadable. Finally, she exhaled. “You don’t owe me an explanation. But you need to understand what you’re asking for.”

“I do,” Jessica said quickly. “I just… I need to save them, Ate.”

Mara nodded slowly, pulled out her phone, and scrolled through her contacts. After a few taps, she handed it to Jessica. “Same number. Same rules. Say you’re ready.”

Jessica took the phone, her fingers trembling as she typed.

This is Jessica. I’m ready to accept the offer. Please arrange within the week.

She stared at the message for a long time before pressing send.

The reply came almost immediately.

Understood. Confirmation in 24 hours. Keep your phone on. No contact until details are sent.

Jessica set the phone down, her hands numb.

Mara sat beside her quietly. “You’re doing this for your family,” she said softly. “Don’t forget that. But don’t pretend it won’t change you.”

Jessica didn’t respond. She just nodded, staring blankly at the small cross hanging above the door, the one the landlady had nailed there years ago.

She wondered if God was still watching, or if He, too, had learned to look away.

That night, she couldn’t sleep. She lay still, the ceiling fan humming above her, the city outside restless and alive.

Her mind kept replaying Rowena’s voice. Mamang’s tired again.

She pictured her mother’s hands, raw, cracked, red from detergent. She thought of the hospital bills piling up like ghosts.

She thought of how every door she’d knocked on had quietly closed.

And so she’d found herself at the last one, the one that came without mercy, only terms.

In the quiet of that night, Jessica whispered to herself, “Just once. Just this once.”

But deep down, she already knew, once was how every story like this began.