TRIALS

I was busy checking my client’s file when my assistant knocked on the door. “Come in,” I said, not looking up from the documents scattered on my desk. Diane stepped inside, her face carrying an expression that was all too familiar lately -worry. She stood hesitantly by the doorway, holding her bag close to her chest. I finally looked up, my eyes meeting hers. The clock behind her read past 10:00 PM. I felt a pang of guilt knowing she had stayed this late just because I hadn’t gone home yet. “It’s okay, Diane. You may go ahead. I’ll be leaving after this,” I said gently. She shifted on her feet, clearly uncomfortable. “Ma’am, can we just go home together? It’s getting really late,” she said, her voice tinged with concern. I sighed, pressing my fingers to my temples. I appreciated her concern but I wasn’t ready to leave yet. “I’m fine, Diane.” She nodded reluctantly as she bids goodbye and stepped out. The office was silent except for the low hum of the air conditioner. I rubbed my eyes and stood up. Maybe coffee would help me focus. I walked toward the small canteen at the end of the hallway, trying to push aside the exhaustion tugging at my limbs. As I took a sip of the hot coffee, a sudden pain struck my head like a bolt of lightning. I gasped and clutched the edge of the counter for support. The world around me began to spin violently. My knees buckled and everything faded into darkness. I woke up with a start to the sound of heavy rain. My heart pounded in confusion. We were on our way to Baguio. The car sped along the highway, water splashing from the tires as the storm outside raged on. I looked around and realized I was sitting in the back seat of our family SUV. Papa was driving while Mama sat beside him, her hand resting on his. He leaned over and kissed it. What a beautiful moment. A simple, perfect memory. I smiled. It felt warm, like home. But something shifted. Papa’s knuckles went white against the steering wheel. He glanced at Mama, his eyes wet with tears as he nodded. She looked back, equally distressed, and then turned to me. She climbed into the back seat and wrapped her arms around me tightly. Her embrace felt different—desperate, protective. I could hear her sobs, feel the trembling in her body. Fear began to rise inside me. “Mama?” I whispered. I looked past her shoulder just in time to see the panic in Papa’s face. We were going too fast. The car veered slightly. I cried, the terror becoming too much. Then a loud crash shattered everything. Glass broke. Metal twisted. And then—nothing. I woke up to the sound of rain still pouring. I looked around for Mama and Papa and saw them both unconscious. Papa was covered in blood, so was Mama. I cried as I screamed their names. “Mama! Papa!” I cried. I gasped awake, tears already streaming down my face. The dream still clung to me, vivid and cruel. The rain from my memory seemed to echo against the windows of my room. It had been ten years. Ten long years since the accident but I still can’t move on from the tragic loss of my parents. I miss them both. So much. I wish I could turn back time and prevent the accident. They would still be here. It was supposed to be a joyful trip, but it turned into my worst nightmare. I heard a knock on the door. “May I come in?” It was Nay Alice, my old nanny. She rushed to my bedside, her eyes full of concern. “I heard you scream. Are you alright? Are you hurting?” She sat beside me and wiped the tears from my cheeks. “I’m okay, Nay. I just… I dreamt of Mama and Papa again,” I said, my voice barely a whisper. She pulled me into a hug and I let myself cry in her arms. After the accident, Nay Alice had never left me. She treated me like her own. Her daughter, Aina, had become like a sister to me. I let them live with me in the house so I wouldn’t be alone. The accident had changed everything. After Papa and Mama died, their families fought over who would take me in. Eventually, it was decided that I would stay with Uncle Fernando, Papa’s older brother. But I felt like a stranger in their home. I didn’t belong. So I returned to Vigan. I was barely fifteen then. Too young to manage anything, but old enough to know I didn’t want to live among people who didn’t love me. Uncle Fernando handled Papa’s business in the meantime. He said he was protecting the family assets until I was old enough to take over. I didn’t care back then. I just wanted to survive. Aina walked into the room, rubbing her eyes. “Seff, are you okay?” she asked, handing me a glass of water. I nodded, forcing a smile. “Thank you. I’m just having a hard night.” She sat on the edge of the bed, concerned. I could see that she wanted to stay, but I gestured for her to go back to sleep. Eventually, they left me alone. I couldn’t go back to sleep. The nightmare still haunted me. When will I ever escape the nightmare of my past? I heaved out a loud sigh as I got up and walked into the kitchen, poured myself a glass of water, and sat in silence. My phone rang. It was Portia, the investigator I had hired to look into some unresolved business matters. I answered. “Yes, Portia?” “Miss, do you have a copy of Mr. Altoverano’s last will?” she asked, her voice anxious. “Why? What’s going on?” “Miss,” she said carefully, “the lead we’re following suggests that the accident ten years ago wasn’t an accident.” I froze. “What are you saying?” “Someone planned the family accident. The brakes were tampered with.” What? The glass of water I'm holding slipped. It shattered on the floor.