THE SECRET AGENT'S DIARY

CHAPTER ONE: BEFORE THEY REBUILT ME

Blyanna's POV

I woke up early in the morning. Sumisilip ang sinag ng araw mula sa bintana at kurtina ng kwarto. Uminat muna ako bago tumayo para buksan ang kurtina at bintana. Magandang tanawin mula sa labas ang makikita. Hardin iyon ng mansyon kung saan ako nakatira ngayon. I sighed. I still remember that day when the family of Montreal adopted me.

---->Flashback

The walls of the orphanage never changed. Same cracked paint. Same creaking pipes. Same hollow air that clung to the skin like grief. Every corner smelled like something that used to be alive-until it wasn't.

I never remembered the crash.

They said I was five.

They said my parents died instantly.

They said I was lucky.

Kinuwento lang ang mga 'yan sa akin ng mga nag-alaga sa akin. I don't know if I should call it real or not. I never remember anything about my past. Parang tuluyan na iyon nabura sa alaala ko.

They called it survival. But what they didn't see was how I grew up haunted by a life I couldn't remember-an entire world that slipped through my fingers before I even had the chance to hold it.

No photos. No memories. No answers.

Just a name: Blyanna Taylor.

And a silence that felt more like a cage than comfort.

Minsan umiiyak ako tuwing may napapaginipan akong malabo at hindi ko maalala. It's difficult to live without having memories of childhood. Some may be thankful for that if it was cruel for them. Sometimes I thought about my real family, or what they looked like, if they even think about me for once like I do, or they really gone before I even met them. Questions that are still bothering me until now.

Do I have a real family?

Do I have siblings that I can call my own?

Do they even miss me?

Do they want to see me?

Are they looking for me?

Why do I live this kind of life?

Don't I deserve a happy and complete family?

All of those...I never know the answers to those questions still in my mind. Tahimik lang ako lagi. I watched more than I spoke. I listened more than I cried. Dahil sa lugar na 'to, umiiyak lang ang mga batang hindi pa sanay masaktan. Ako? Natuto na akong maging matatag, kahit hindi ko alam kung saan ko kinukuha ang lakas na 'yon.

The other girls called me Ghost Girl.

Maybe I was.

Maybe I was just waiting for someone to wake me up from the kind of sleep that never really ends.

Then... on the day I turned nineteen, they came.

A sleek black car, tinted windows.

Too polished for a place like this.

The woman who stepped out first looked like she didn't belong in this world-only in magazines or corporate empires. Matangkad, matalas ang mata, at tahimik pero mabigat ang presensya. May katandaan na pero parang bata pa rin ang itsura nito. Beside her, a man followed. A little older than her, stiff, expressionless.

"We're here for Blyanna Taylor," the woman said.

Biglang tumahimik ang buong hallway. Nagkatinginan silang lahat sabay tingin sa akin at sa dalawang taong dumating.

I didn't move at first. I thought it was a mistake. But she looked straight at me like she already knew who I was. Or maybe like she had been watching me long before today.

I just found myself here arriving in their mansion-one I never imagined stepping into.

Sa sobrang laki ng bahay, para akong nilamon ng katahimikan. Everything smelled like expensive candles and polished floors. The windows stretched taller than anything I'd seen in my life. The staff didn't make eye contact. And the walls? Masyadong tahimik para sa bahay na may "pamilya."

Then came the smiles. Too perfect. Too gentle. Too... rehearsed.

"Welcome to your new home, Blyanna." Napalingon ako sa nagsalita. She was Amairis Clover Montreal. Narinig ko lang ang pangalan niya noong narinig kong pinag-uusapan sila ng mga tao sa bahay-ampunan.

She's the eldest daughter. Tall, elegant, and graceful-yet something in her eyes never quite matched her smile. Para bang laging may tinatago.

Beside her was Travest Wilson, not a Montreal by name, but very clearly part of them. He didn't speak much that day. He just watched. Sharp, quiet, calculating. Like me.

And then, Cianna.

She was only eight, clingy, cheerful, and oddly perceptive for her age.

"Can I call you Ate?" she asked on our first night. I nodded, though I wasn't sure how to feel.

They gave me a room too beautiful for someone like me. Too clean. Too warm.

But there were no photos in the frames.

Only reflections of who they wanted to be.

---> End of Flashback

Others will find it weird like I do. But as the days passed, unti-unti din akong nasasanay at nakakapag-adjust kahit hindi ako dito lumaki. To be honest, it was difficult to live in a different environment where it was too silent. Still, thankful pa rin ako that a family chooses me even I wasn't a kid anymore.

Pero kahit ilang araw na ang lumipas simula nang dalhin nila ako rito, hindi ko pa rin alam kung paano maging "bahagi" ng lugar na 'to.

Everything was too polished. Too quiet. Too intentional.

Para iba, iisipin nilang hindi ako nababagay tumira sa ganitong eleganteng pamilya kung nasaan nakatayo ngayon ang mga paa ko. Ganoon ang pinaparamdam sa akin ng mansyon na ito. But eventually, I had to face the reality that I am now here and there's no turning back. Hindi na ako nakatira sa bahay-ampunan kaya kailangan kong tanggapin na magiging isa na ako sa kanila.

Sa bawat paggising ko sa umaga noong mga unang araw ko dito, all I think about is that I will wake up from this dream, that everything will be back to the way it was before. But every time I opened my eyes, nakahiga pa rin ako sa malambot na kama at malawak at magandang kwartong inilaan nila para sa akin. It's difficult to accept it until now, just because it felt different. The name Blyanna Taylor that I grew up with, will surely soon be Blyanna Montreal.

At sa bawat araw na lumilipas, unti-unti kong nararamdaman ang bigat ng pangalang iyon. Blyanna Montreal. Parang sapatos na hindi ko pa kayang isuot nang buo. Masikip. Bago. Kumikiskis sa balat ko tuwing tinatawag nila ako gamit 'yon.

Hindi ko alam kung kailan ako matututong maging komportable rito.

Pero kahit pilitin kong manatili sa pagkataong Blyanna Taylor, hindi na iyon ang hinahanap ng mundo ko ngayon. Hindi na rin iyon ang kailangan ng pamilyang ito-ng bagong buhay ko.

Kahit takot akong mawala ang sarili ko sa prosesong 'to, alam kong wala akong choice kundi yakapin kung sino ang dapat kong maging.

Because in this house, survival isn't enough. You have to become who they built you to be.

---

Ang bahay ng Montreals ay hindi basta mansyon lang. It's a cathedral of silence.

Walang kaluskos. Walang tawanan.

May mga chandeliers sa kisame pero parang bawal tumingala.

May mainit na pagkain sa lamesa pero parang bawal magsabi ng "salamat."

Everyone walked like they were guarding something. Or hiding something. Kahit 'yung mga kasambahay, parang sinanay na huwag magsalita nang hindi tinatanong.

Noong una, akala ko galit sila sa akin. O baka hindi ako tanggap. Pero hindi pala. Ganito lang talaga ang mundo nila. Tahimik. Mabigat. At kontrolado.

Araw-araw, sinusubukan kong itanim sa utak ko:

Safe ka na ngayon.

May pamilya ka na.

May silid kang sarili mo. May bagong damit. May tinig na puwedeng marinig kung gugustuhin mo.

Pero kahit anong pilit, parang hindi pa rin ako makalabas sa loob ng dating ako. 'Yong batang sanay sa dilim. 'Yong batang marunong umiwas ng tingin. 'Yong batang hindi natutong humiling.

Now I'm expected to smile.

To say "yes, Mom" or "thank you, Dad" even when my voice doesn't want to come out.

They were kind-in their own way.

Pero iba 'yung kabaitan nila. Hindi 'yon 'yung parang sa pelikula na yayakapin ka, o papaluin ka kung may mali.

Hindi sila gano'n.

They were polite. Restrained. Like every move was a performance.

At unti-unti, natuto rin akong ganon.

To smile at the right time.

To sit straight.

To walk without making a sound.

Hanggang sa isang araw, hindi ko na namalayan...

I started to answer when they called me Blyanna Montreal.

On my third day in the mansion, Amairis knocked on my door. Three short taps-precise, rhythmic. Hindi siya pumasok agad. Parang may inaantay.

I sat up straight, trying to fix the creases on my blanket even though it was already perfectly made.

"Come in," I whispered.

The door opened with the quiet grace of old hinges that had never once creaked.

"May time ka?" tanong niya, her tone calm but firm. "I want to show you around." I nodded.

Amairis Montreal was nothing like the people I used to know. She moved like a shadow-steady, unbothered, almost too perfect. Parang siya mismo ang embodiment ng mansion na 'to: tahimik, malinis, at may itinatago.

We walked down a corridor I'd never dared to step into before.

"This wing is for guests," she explained, voice barely above a murmur. "But they rarely stay."

"Bakit po?" I asked, my voice cracking. It still felt strange calling her Ate in my head.

She glanced at me, just for a second. "This house is not made for visitors. It's built to keep people in, not out."

I didn't know what that meant.

Pero parang may pahiwatig na ayaw niyang ipaliwanag nang buo.

She showed me the study-walls lined with books I wasn't allowed to touch yet. The glass room filled with plants that didn't seem to need sunlight. The gym looked more like a training facility than a place for "wellness."

And then she led me to a hallway at the farthest side of the house. I noticed how she suddenly turned quieter. Her footsteps, although always soft, now felt... heavier.

"Don't enter any room here unless someone tells you to," she said, without looking back.

Napatigil ako.

There were no signs. No locks. Just closed doors.

"Why?" I asked.

"Because not everything in this house is meant for you to understand," she replied, her voice almost too calm.

Her words clung to me like fog.

---

After the tour, bumalik kami sa dining hall. No one was there. Just the long table with twelve chairs, even though only five people lived in the house.

Bago siya umalis, tumingin siya sa akin. Diretso. Tahimik. Para bang may binabasa siya sa akin na ako mismo, hindi ko maintindihan.

"You'll get used to it," she said.

And I wanted to ask-get used to what?

The silence? The way the lights flickered even when there was no wind?

The feeling that someone was always watching, even when I was alone?

But instead, I nodded.

Because Amairis Montreal didn't seem like someone you questioned.

And this house didn't feel like a place where you were allowed to doubt. Kailangan matuto kang magkaroon nang malawak na pang-unawa at marunong kang mag-adjust kahit mahirap dahil kapag hindi mo nagawa kaagad, it'll bring discomfort and surely, it'll lead to overthinking.

And that's what I'm trying to do...until now.

Kailangan matuto akong umangkop sa mundong hindi ako ang pumili.

Sa mundong tila may sariling alituntunin, sariling katahimikan, sariling anyo ng pagmamahal-na hindi palaging mararamdaman, pero alam mong nandoon lang.

Pero kahit anong pilit kong mag-adjust, may mga gabi pa rin na hindi ako makahinga nang maayos. Mga gabi na ang katahimikan ng mansion ay parang sigaw na ayaw tumigil.

I lie awake staring at the ceiling, thinking...

What if I can't become the person they expect me to be? What if Blyanna Taylor was never meant to become a Montreal?

Sa tuwing titingin ako sa salamin, I see two versions of myself. Isa na tahimik, mabait, at kayang ngumiti sa harap ng camera kung kailangan. At isa pang hindi ko maintindihan-isang aninong ayaw mamatay, kahit ilang beses ko na siyang nilibing sa loob ko.

Sometimes I wonder if I'm faking it too well. Kasi minsan, naniniwala na rin ako sa sariling palabas ko.

---

One night, I heard footsteps outside my room.

Not hurried. Not loud. Just... deliberate.

I wanted to open the door, but something in me whispered not to.

I waited. Counted. One, two, three, four...

They stopped right at my door.

Then silence.

And then, just as slowly as they came, the footsteps retreated.

No one mentioned it the next morning. No one ever explained the strange lights I sometimes saw blinking in the hallway. Or why Cianna once warned me not to ask too many questions, in that oddly mature voice of hers.

"You'll understand when you're ready," she said with a tilt of her head, clutching her teddy bear like a little soldier. "Don't worry, Ate Blyanna. Not everything has to make sense right away."

But how do I make peace with something that doesn't make sense?

How do I become someone I don't even recognize?

Hinawakan niya ang kamay ko. "Come on. Let's play! I want to show you in my playroom!" she said it with such excitement, such light in her voice, that for a moment, I almost believed this house was normal. That she was just like any other child.

Hatak-hatak niya ako papunta sa kwarto niya. I let her pull me-hindi ko alam kung dahil sa takot o sa hiya. But maybe... a part of me just didn't want to disappoint her.

We walked down a narrow hallway, lit by soft yellow wall sconces. The light flickered faintly as we passed, like they were reacting to our presence. Or maybe it was just my imagination again.

"Ayan na!" she exclaimed as she stopped in front of a white double-door with gold handles shaped like vines. She turned to me with a proud smile.

"This is my world," she whispered dramatically.

Bumuntong-hininga ako. "Okay..."

She pushed open the doors, and I braced myself for another part of the mansion that would probably feel too cold, too perfect.

But I was wrong.

The room was a world of color.

Unlike the rest of the house-bland, elegant, and painfully symmetrical-Cianna's playroom was alive. May mga stuffed animals na halos punuin ang buong sofa. The floor was layered with soft rugs in pastel colors. The walls were hand-painted with stars, clouds, and a little girl standing on top of a floating moon.

There was a tent in the corner, shaped like a castle tower.

"I helped paint that," Cianna said proudly, pointing at the mural. "Ate Amairis didn't want me to, but Daddy and I said I should be free to draw anything here. He said it's the only place where I can dream."

The only place where she can dream?

"Do you... not dream in other rooms?" tanong ko nang marahan.

She paused. "No one really does. Not in this house."

Her voice was suddenly... older. Heavier.

Bago ko pa maitanong kung anong ibig niyang sabihin, she clapped her hands and grinned.

"Let's play tea party!"

I sat on a small stool that seemed far too tiny for someone my age. She handed me a chipped porcelain cup-real porcelain, not plastic.

"I used to play this alone," she said casually while pouring imaginary tea into my cup. "But now I have you."

I smiled a little. "Thanks."

"Do you like chocolate cake?"

"Yeah..."

"Me too! But they don't let me eat a lot. Ate Amairis says sugar messes with my 'focus.'"

There it was again-that weird mix of innocence and something far too aware.

"Focus for what?" tanong ko.

She tilted her head and took a pretend sip. "Training, I guess."

"Training for what?"

She looked at me. Dead serious this time. "Aren't we all being trained for something?"

Before I could answer, she stood and skipped toward a tall cabinet. She opened it slowly, like a magician about to reveal her trick.

"I want to show you something," she said in a whisper.

---

Inside the cabinet weren't toys.

Not exactly.

There were puzzles-dozens of them. Some half-finished. Some with pieces too small for a child to even touch.

There were rows of books, most without covers. Some written in languages I didn't recognize.

And at the very bottom-neatly stacked in a box-were what looked like maps.

"Is this part of your playroom?" I asked cautiously.

She nodded. "Yes. But Ate Amairis doesn't know I keep them here."

I knelt down, pulled one map out, and stared at it. It had no country names. No clear borders. Just symbols, arrows, and strange notations.

"Cianna..." I looked at her, confused. "Where did you get these?"

She just smiled and said, "Don't tell anyone, okay? Even Kuya Travest doesn't know."

Umalingawngaw sa tenga ko ang sinabi ni Cianna habang nakatitig ako sa mga mapa. Dahan-dahan kong hinaplos ang papel-hindi ito ordinaryong papel na gaya ng ginagamit sa eskwela. Magaspang ito, parang lumang dokumentong masyadong maraming pinagdaanan, masyadong maraming itinago.

"Saan mo nakuha 'to?" tanong ko ulit, mas mahina na ang boses ko.

Lumuhod siya sa tabi ko, habang sinisipa-sipa ang hangin gamit ang maliit niyang paa, na para bang hindi siya naghuhubad ng lihim sa harap ko

.

"Sa red room," sagot niya. "Sabi ni Ate Amairis, bawal daw pumasok doon. Pero nacurious ako."

"Pumasok ka doon mag-isa?"

Tumawa lang siya. "I'm small. They don't notice me. I notice them."

Napatingin ako sa kanya. Paano mo 'yon nasabi sa gano'ng tono, Cianna?

May kung anong dumaan sa likod ko-hindi hangin. Kundi kaba.

"Naiintindihan mo ba 'tong mga 'to?" tanong ko habang tinititigan siya.

Tumango siya, dahan-dahan. "'Yong iba. Narinig ko si Kuya Travest minsan habang nagsasalita siya mag-isa sa office. Pag galit siya, nagsasalita siya nang malakas. Akala niya wala ako, pero..." Tinapik niya ang dibdib niya, mata sa akin. "My brain listens faster than my ears."

Napakurap ako. "Ha?"

Ngumiti lang siya, parang walang sinabi. "Never mind. Let's play hide and seek!"

Tumayo siya bigla at nagsimulang magbilang bago pa man ako makapagsalita.

"One... two... three..."

Naiwan akong nakatayo sa harap ng bukas na cabinet, hindi sigurado kung dapat ko ba itong isara-o sunugin.

"Four... five... six..."

Bumalik ako sa may tent tower at nagtago sa likod nito.

"Seven... eight..."

Mula sa pwesto ko, kita ko pa rin ang cabinet-nakabukas, parang naghihintay, parang humihinga.

"Nine... TEN!"

Pag-ikot ni Cianna, may ningning sa mga mata niya. "Ready or not, here I come!"

Nahanap niya agad ako.

"Told you I'm good at this!" tuwang-tuwa niyang sabi habang tinapik ang balikat ko. "Now it's your turn!"

Sinubukan kong ngumiti. Pero hindi umabot sa mga mata ko.

Habang tumatakbo siya papalayo para magtago, bumalik sa isipan ko ang mga mapa. Para kanino 'yon? Bakit nasa playroom niya? At higit sa lahat... bakit ganon magsalita si Cianna? Parang hindi siya walong taong gulang.

"Found me!" sigaw niya nang iangat ko ang dulo ng rug.

Nakapulupot siya sa ilalim ng lumang wooden toy chest, parang gymnast sa isang maliit na kahon. Halos hindi humihinga.

"Ang flexible mo ah," biro ko.

Nagkibit-balikat siya. "Sabi ni Ate Amairis, kailangan ko raw maging gano'n."

"Para saan?"

Tumigil siya. Tumingin ng diretso sa akin, tapos tinapik ang ilong niya. "Secret."

---

Naglaro kami nang kaunti pa. After a while, naupo kaming magkatabi sa sahig. Binubuhaghag niya ang buhok ng manika niyang mukhang pinaglabanan ng digmaan. Hindi ko na napigilang itanong:

"Masaya ka ba rito?"

Tahimik siya saglit. "It's not about liking it. You just get used to it. Like cold baths. Or early mornings."

Napakunot ang noo ko. "That's not how most kids talk, you know."

Ngumiti siya pero hindi ako tiningnan. "I know."

Bandang hapon na nang magpaalam ako sa kanya.

Bago ako makalabas ng pinto, hinila niya muli ang manggas ko.

"Ate Blyanna?"

"Hmm?"

"If you ever hear someone crying at night... don't follow the sound, okay?"

Napahinto ako. Napalunok.

"Ano?"

She leaned in and whispered, "Not all crying in this house comes from people who are sad."

---

There it was again. That strange shift in her voice-between childlike sweetness and something darker. And just like that, she smiled, waved, and turned back to her dolls.

Paglabas ko ng playroom, para akong hinigop ng katahimikan ng buong mansion.

Tahimik. Walang ibang tunog kundi ang tunog ng sarili kong hakbang. Even my breathing sounded too loud.

Bakit ganito?

Bakit parang habang mas tumatagal ako rito, mas nawawala ako sa sarili kong balat?

I walked faster, hindi ko na nilingon pa ang playroom. My footsteps echoed in the empty hallway, like the house itself was whispering with each step.

Pagdating sa kwarto ko, agad kong isinara ang pinto. I locked it without thinking, then rested my back against the wood, as if I needed to keep something-or someone-out.

Huminga ako nang malalim. Relax. You're just being paranoid. Pero kahit anong pilit kong kumbinsihin ang sarili ko, hindi mawala ang kaba sa dibdib ko.

What kind of house warns you not to follow crying sounds at night? And more importantly-what kind of child gives that warning like it's a bedtime reminder?

---

I sat on my bed, blankly staring at the floor.

Naalala ko 'yung mga mapa. 'Yong red room. 'Yong tono ng boses ni Cianna habang sinasabi ang mga bagay na tila dapat hindi pa niya alam.

She was smart-too smart.

At hindi 'yung tipong honor student kind of smart. She was sharp. Quietly observant. Parang may sinusundan siyang script na hindi ko pa hawak.

Bakit may ganito sa isang walong taong gulang?

Napatingin ako sa nightstand kung saan nakapatong ang maliit na notebook na binigay ni Ate Amairis. I opened it slowly and began to write.

"Bakit mas marami pang alam ang bata kaysa sa akin?"

"Anong klaseng bahay ang tinutuluyan ko ngayon?"

Tinitigan ko lang 'yung sulat ko habang tinutunaw ako ng tanong na wala namang sagot.

That night, I didn't even try to turn off the lamp. I curled under the covers like a child trying to disappear beneath her blanket, praying the shadows wouldn't move again.

I didn't want to sleep.

Pero mas ayokong magising sa gitna ng isang iyak.

Then just before midnight...

Narinig ko nga 'yon.

Mahina. Pilit ikinukubli.

Parang iyak ng isang taong ayaw marinig pero gustong may makarinig.

A soft sobbing sound. Familiar, but wrong.

Hindi 'yon si Cianna. Hindi rin si Ate Amairis. Hindi ako sigurado kung guni-guni lang o may totoong taong umiiyak sa loob ng mansion na 'to.

I gripped my blanket tighter and squeezed my eyes shut.

Don't follow the sound...

Don't follow the sound...

Paulit-ulit ko 'yong binubulong sa isip ko hanggang sa parang bumagal ang lahat.

But then I heard it again. Mas malapit.

This time, there was a voice.

Mahina, basag, tila nalulunod sa luha:

"Help me..."

Nanigas ang buong katawan ko. Hindi ako gumalaw. Hindi ako nagsalita. Even my breath felt like a sin.

Cianna was right.

Not all crying in this house comes from people who are sad.

---

Kinabukasan, I dragged myself to breakfast. Sunlight poured into the dining room, like it was mocking the darkness I survived the night before.

Tahimik lang ang lahat. Walang nagbabanggit ng kung ano.

Si Ate Amairis, abala sa pagbabasa ng tablet niya. Si Travest, tahimik habang umiinom ng kape.

Si Cianna?

Nasa tapat ko. Ngingiti-ngiti habang pinapatong ang piraso ng prutas sa pancake niya na parang walang nangyari kagabi.

Nagkatinginan kami.

Ngumiti siya. Yung tipong inosente. Yung tipong parang walang alam. Pero may nakita ako sa mga mata niya na hindi niya sinabi-alam niyang gising ako kagabi.

"Ate Blyanna," she called out gently, "Can we play again later?"

I wanted to say no. Gusto kong tanungin siya ng milyon-milyong tanong.

Pero wala akong nasabi.

Tumango lang ako. "Sure."

And maybe, that was the real start of my undoing that I'll surely regret later on. I'm trying my best to embrace everything I've learned here even though my mind refused to accept and believe it. Mahirap pero kailangan dahil ito na ang buhay ko ngayon, na pinupuno ng MISTERYO.