Chapter 4 – The First Test
1817 Words
Three days after their meeting with Mara and Tomas Dela Cruz, the sisters and Abi received a discreet message on Abi’s burner phone:
Tomorrow. 8 PM. Old warehouse by the docks. Come prepared. —Dela Cruz
Abi tossed the phone onto the dining table with an exaggerated sigh.
“Well, isn’t this comforting? Nothing says ‘we trust you’ like a late-night meeting in a creepy dockside warehouse.”
Aya frowned, still in her pre-med uniform, the faint scent of antiseptic clinging to her.
“Are you sure it’s safe? This could be more than a test of competence. It might be a test of obedience.”
“That’s the point,” Hima replied, her tone as sharp as her gaze. She leaned back in her chair, calm but calculating.
“They want to see if we’ll show up scared… or ready. We’ll show up prepared—but not submissive.”
Abi smirked. “Fine. Then let’s give them a show.”
The warehouse loomed like a rusted skeleton under the orange glow of industrial lamps. Metal doors groaned as they pushed them open. Inside, crates towered like walls, the air thick with salt and oil.
Mara stood by a table, Tomas a shadow beside her. Two armed men lingered in the background. On the table rested a sealed black duffel bag.
“You came,” Mara said, her voice steady, unreadable. “Good.”
She gestured toward the bag.
“Your task is simple. Deliver this to a contact across town. No questions, no delays. Succeed, and you prove reliability. Fail…” she tilted her head slightly, “and failure is something our family does not tolerate.”
Abi shot Hima a look. Aya’s hands tightened around her bag strap, unease etched across her face.
Hima stepped forward. “And the contact?”
Mara’s smile barely moved. “You’ll know when you arrive. The address is in the envelope on top of the bag.”
Two men brought the bag over. It hit the ground with a heavy thud. Aya flinched.
“Great,” Abi muttered. “Could be cash. Could be guns. Could be a body part. Love the mystery element.”
Hima crouched, lifted the bag. It was heavy—but manageable. She straightened her back, voice steady.
“We’ll deliver it.”
They drove a secondhand SUV Aya had borrowed from a professor’s assistant. The duffel bag sat in the backseat like a silent threat.
Aya couldn’t stop glancing at it.
“This isn’t right,” she whispered. “What if it’s something illegal? Drugs? Weapons?”
“It probably is,” Abi said dryly, scrolling through her tablet. “But what did you expect? A cupcake delivery? This is the underworld. Tests don’t come clean.”
Aya glared. “Then why are we even doing this?”
“Because,” Hima cut in, tone even but unyielding, “if we refuse the first challenge, we’ll never see how deep this goes. We need to understand their game before we decide how to play it.”
Abi grinned. “Exactly. Besides, I’ve got a tracker on the bag. If this goes south, at least we’ll have data.”
Aya sighed. “Sometimes, your optimism terrifies me.”
The address led them to a small karaoke bar tucked on a noisy downtown street. Neon lights flickered, laughter spilling from the front—yet the back alley was silent.
A man in a leather jacket stood waiting by a motorcycle. His eyes followed them like a predator’s.
“You have something for me,” he said, voice low.
Hima studied him carefully. His movements were calm, practiced—someone who lived in the dark. Abi’s fingers hovered above her tablet, ready. Aya stood close, tense but quiet.
Hima set the bag down. “From the Dela Cruz family.”
The man unzipped it slightly, checked the contents, then nodded. He pulled out a smaller brown-wrapped package and handed it over.
“This goes back to them. Same rules.”
Abi raised an eyebrow. “So we’re couriers now? What’s next—pizza deliveries with surprise toppings?”
The man didn’t smile. “This isn’t a joke. Don’t open it. Don’t delay.”
Hima took the package without hesitation. Her jaw was tight, her movements precise.
“Understood.”
When they returned to the warehouse, Mara was waiting. Her gaze flicked to the package in Hima’s hand.
“Good,” she said simply. “You followed instructions.”
Tomas took the package. Mara’s eyes lingered on the trio.
“Most would have peeked. Curiosity is dangerous in our world. But discipline… that, we respect.”
Hima met her gaze. “We didn’t peek because we’re not after scraps of secrets. If you want us to be valuable, you’ll give us real trust. Not errands.”
Mara studied her for a long moment, then gave a thin smile.
“You have fire. Dangerous, if left unchecked. We’ll see if you earn more than errands.”
Aya exhaled, half relief, half dread. Abi stretched, smirking.
“So what’s next? Smuggling diamonds in soda cans?”
Mara ignored the joke. “Next time, you’ll be tested separately—each of you in your own strength. Tonight was about loyalty. Next will be about capability.”
Hima nodded once, her voice cool and resolute.
“Then test us. We’re ready.”
Aya’s Trial – The Healer’s Dilemma
The clinic was silent. Too silent.
Aya was used to the rhythm of hospitals—the beeping monitors, the shuffle of nurses, the murmurs of life and death. But here, in this Dela Cruz–funded private ward, the silence felt heavy, unnatural.
A nurse led her into a room. A man lay on the bed, shirtless, blood soaking through makeshift bandages. The metallic scent of blood filled the air.
“Fix him,” the nurse said curtly, and left.
Aya’s voice trembled. “Fix him? What do you think he is—a machine?”
The nurse turned at the door. “Are you going to do it or not?”
Her hands shook as she pulled on gloves. She wasn’t licensed yet—just pre-med. No supervision. No help. But her mother’s words echoed in her mind:
“Medicine isn’t about perfection. It’s about giving someone another chance to live.”
She steadied her breath, sterilized the tools, and began. The man groaned, half-conscious. Aya whispered softly, “Stay with me. You’re going to make it.”
Minutes blurred into hours. Sweat dripped down her temple as she stitched torn flesh, cleaned blood, and stabilized his pulse. Finally, the bleeding stopped.
When she stepped out, exhausted, Mara was waiting.
“He’ll live,” Aya said quietly.
Mara’s gaze was sharp. “You hesitated at first.”
Aya straightened her spine. “Because this isn’t a game. These are lives. I’ll help anyone you put in front of me—but don’t mistake me for someone who’ll patch up soldiers blindly. My skills aren’t yours to abuse.”
Mara regarded her for a long moment, then smiled faintly.
“Strength with conscience. Your mother would be proud.”
Aya’s chest tightened—but she said nothing.
Abi’s Trial – The Hacker’s Game
Abi’s trial came in the form of a laptop, an encrypted hard drive, and a single instruction from one of Tomas’s men:
“Get us in and out. Tonight.”
Abi cracked her knuckles, grinning. “Finally, something fun.”
The hard drive was a fortress of encryption—military-level security, honeytraps, hidden malware. It was like staring down another hacker who enjoyed the chase.
She sipped soda, typing fast. “You really thought this would scare me? Cute.”
An hour in, she found something strange: ledgers tied to a rival syndicate… and deeper still, files linking to Dela Cruz’s own secret deals. Transactions Mara likely didn’t want exposed.
Abi hesitated—then smirked.
“Why not both?”
She delivered the files they requested, neatly re-encrypted. But she also mirrored the deeper ones to her private server. Insurance.
When she handed the laptop back, Tomas arched a brow. “Fast.”
Abi shrugged. “I don’t waste time. Next time, give me something harder. And tell whoever built that firewall—they’re sloppy.”
The guard said nothing. Abi walked out, whispering under her breath,
“And now… we’ve got leverage.”
Hima’s Trial – The Negotiator
Hima’s test was different.
They brought her to a dimly lit restaurant where two older men in suits waited. They weren’t Dela Cruz—rivals, maybe. Sharks smelling blood.
Mara’s instructions were simple: negotiate a deal.
The men exchanged amused looks when she entered.
“A child?” one scoffed. “They send us a schoolgirl?”
Hima’s smile was razor-sharp. “Not a child. A strategist. You’ll see the difference soon.”
She sat gracefully, crossing her legs, posture exuding quiet dominance.
“Do you even know who you’re talking to?” one sneered.
“Of course,” she said smoothly. “I know your import routes are bleeding money. I know your allies are already betting against you. And I know that unless you secure this deal, the Dela Cruz family will tear apart what’s left of your empire.”
She slid the contract across the table—every word measured, precise.
“Big talk for a little girl,” one of them growled. “Why shouldn’t we crush you for your arrogance?”
Hima leaned forward, voice low and deliberate. “Because I’m not offering you a deal. I’m offering you a lifeline. And the only thing worse than being laughed at by the Dela Cruz family… is being forgotten by them.”
Silence. The air thickened. The men’s confidence cracked.
And finally—they signed.
When Hima returned, Mara awaited her. She tapped the signed documents with a gloved finger.
“You’re dangerous,” she said softly. “Not because of your fists—but because of this.” She pointed to her temple. “Your mind.”
Hima tilted her head, lips curling. “Good. Remember that.”
That night, the three regrouped in their small house. Aya was pale but steady. Abi buzzed with adrenaline. Hima—calm, composed, unreadable.
Aya poured tea, her hands trembling. “They’ll keep testing us. Pushing us.”
Abi flopped onto the couch, raising her soda can. “Bring it on. I live for this.”
Hima’s eyes glimmered. “They think they’re testing us for loyalty. But really—we’re testing them. To see how far they’ll trust us… and how much they’ll reveal.”
Abi grinned. “And if they fail?”
Hima’s smile was sweet—but her eyes were cold.
“Then we stop being their students… and become their rivals.”
Silence fell.
Not fear.
Understanding.
They weren’t pawns anymore.
They were players.
- Writer
