The next morning arrived heavy and gray, parang may bagyong paparating. The sky was a dull, bruised gray, and the wind howled softly through the trees surrounding the mansion. I walked down to breakfast clutching my bag tight against my side, my eyes scanning every corner, every shadow, every face that looked my way. The letter sat safe in my bag, locked away, but its words kept echoing in my mind, Join your father.
I stepped into the dining room and stopped short. Nandoon na sila, Tita Rosa, Miguel, Isabel, Elias… and a man I had never seen before. He sat comfortably in the chair beside Isabel, dressed in an expensive navy suit, his hair perfectly combed back, a silver watch glinting on his wrist. He looked older, maybe in his late fifties — with a charming smile and eyes that seemed to
