The Keeper

The Revelation

“Who are you, really, Mr Albareda?” Mrs Bassig’s tone tells him she will not leave the issue alone until he answers all her questions. At his hesitation, Mrs Bassig’s hands went to her hips. “And don’t tell me you are her keeper. I can take care of our young patient. She is staying in my inn. I have offered her employment, she is more my responsibility than yours.” 

Alarm streaked through his heart at her words. She effectively threatened to cut his access to Anza if he did not tell her the truth of who he is, why he is here and what is his connection to Anza. He needs to tell her an acceptable variance of the truth. 

He sighed. “Okay, Mrs Bassig, you win...” He sat down so he is at eye level with her. “My name is Rocco Albareda. Her father, Manuel Soledad, sent me to find her and eventually convince her to go home,” he said. 

“You were sent by her father?” Mrs Bassig raised a disbelieving eyebrow. “So, how come she does not know you? She told me she met you here when you first checked in,” she said, suspicion thick in her tone. 

“Because we have never met before,” he replied. He glanced at the bed, checking if Anza is still asleep. He does not want her to overhear anything. 

“Why send you? You look too young to be a private investigator,” Mrs Bassig said. 

“Do you mind if we move outside to talk? I do not want to disturb Anza,” he said. Mrs Bassig looked at his attire pointedly. He shrugged. His clothes were wet, and he could not care less. 

After a brief hesitation, Mrs Bassig nodded and opened the front door. He followed, barefoot and in a bathrobe. They stood by the hallway. 

“I have been away for studies, that is why she and I never met. Anza’s father is a friend of my... family. I just graduated from the military academy. And his dad asked me to convince her to go home. They did not want to send anyone they do not trust.” his quick explanation was not created on the spot. It was part of his training to cover all kinds of situation. He had thought about this scenario before, except in his head, he would say this to Anza. 

“I gather that Anza does not know yet who you are, and you do not want her to know. So, what is your plan?” Mrs Bassig’s objection to his strategy is plain in her voice. 

“I want to ensure her safety while she is here and convince her of the merits of going home. She would be more receptive to a neutral viewpoint. If she finds out who I am, that I am part of the family, she would immediately put a wall between us,” he said. His reasoning sounded convincing to him as well. 

Mrs Bassig's indecisive stance softened. He could see that his explanation made sense to her. Finally, she nodded, “Okay. I will keep your secret. But you cannot take care of her dressed like... that,” she gestured to the bathrobe. 

“I was going to hang my clothes to dry and wear those. I cannot walk around your establishment wearing the robe,” he pointed out. 

“Give me your clothes and I will have someone ran it in the dryer,” Mrs Bassig shooed him into the bathroom to get their wet clothes. He scooped them out into the damp towel and handed the whole thing to her.

Arms loaded with sodden clothing, she called out over her shoulder, “I will send up some hot soup in an hour or so.” 

“Thank you, Mrs Bassig,” he called back, and closed the door. 

Anza was still deeply asleep. He touched her forehead. She’s still feverish, but not so high. He sighed and sat down on the bed, his back against the headboard. He wondered about the cause of the sudden onslaught of fever on Anza. The high temperature usually is the body’s response to an infection. Hopefully, it was just a minor one. 

His stomach grumbled. He’s hungry. Both Anza and he missed lunch. He also wanted to get a spare change of clothes from his room, but the need to keep Anza in sight, not to leave her alone, was stronger. He would have to be in this bathrobe until Mrs Bassig returned with his dry clothes. Hopefully, Anza would sleep on until then. He does not want her scandalised like Mrs Bassig. 

Now that Mrs Bassig knows about him, the need to tell Anza himself looms nearer. While Mrs Bassig promised to keep his secret, she might make a mistake. He does not want her to find out from someone else. Perhaps he needs to add more pressure to convince her to go home. 

And to ensure her safety, he will make a bargain with Anza’s father. To prepare her for the eventual life that she would live outside of her family, Manuel Soledad must give her more freedom. He must allow her to meet new people, to make friends, have a boyfr- experience life outside of her family, even in short bursts. 

***

Anza woke up just when the soup arrived together with the food that he ordered for himself.  She seemed confused, wanting to get up for whatever reason. He pressed her gently down on the bed until she calmed down, her eyes focused on him. 

“Are you hungry, little one?” he murmured. She blinked up at him, glanced at the soup tray and swallowed. “I will take that as a yes,” he said. He propped her up and spooned some to her mouth once they were cool enough. She did not eat much, but the soup’s saltiness made her drink a lot of water. He suspects that Mrs Bassig designed it so. 

She was panting after and fell quickly back to sleep like a tired child. He took the opportunity to eat. He has a hunch it will be a long night. He was glad that her room had two beds, he would not have to suffer the small sofa or the floor. 

***

Two hours later, Anza threw off her covers as she shifted restlessly in her sleep. He approached her bed to take her temperature, but her skin was clammy. She was drenched in sweat, her hair sticking to her forehead and neck, her pillow damp. She was on her side; the lamplight showed the back of her bathrobe was wet through. 

He would have to put her in dry clothes. His discarded bathrobe would be the easiest thing to change her into with his eyes closed. With a sigh, he sat her up, her damp back supported by his chest. He kept his eyes focused on the ceiling as he peeled the bathrobe off her shoulders, one arm around her upper chest. He pushed it down her back, and with his free hand, he pulled the other bathrobe and draped it over her naked back. With a swift, fluid motion, he pulled her arms through each sleeve, wrapping the front of the robe around her, tying it securely. 

That done, he pulled the damp robe from her, and dropped it on the floor. The other side of her bed was not suitable for her as it was also damp. She must have tossed and turned earlier. He put her on the other side of his. Laying her down comfortably, he stripped the damp cover sheets off her bed to dry it off. 

He then took his place beside her, smoothing the hair off her face, fanning it on the pillow. He was suffused with the feelings of tenderness as he looked at her. This slight slip of a girl, with her innocence and grit, her fighting spirit, had penetrated his defensive wall. She is like a kitten, wide-eyed and soft. One cannot help but melt inside as you look at it. 

For now, she is his kitten. One that he needs to take care of. Anza shifted and turned towards him, cuddling to his side. Her damp hair resting on his arm. He dare not pull her close, his body heat might increase her temperature again. So, he closed his eyes to savour the inner connection that has developed between Anza and himself. 

***

“Rocco...” a gentle prod on his side woke him up. He opened his eyes and stared at Anza’s slightly sleepy gaze and raspy voice. He was on his side, one arm slung over Anza’s waist. It seemed that he moved last night as Anza’s position was the same as when he fell asleep. He pushed himself on his elbows and looked down at him. 

“How are you?” his voice came out in a whisper. 

“My throat hurts. I’m thirsty,” she replied. Her hand touching her own neck gently. 

He immediately stood up and got her a chilled bottle of water from the refrigerator. He helped her sit up, and she drank it thirstily. Her exhale of relief was drawn out. Her hands trembled slightly as she handed the bottle back to him. 

“Better?” At her nod, he touched her cheeks and forehead. She felt cool to the touch. “You have to eat, you’re weak,” he grasped her hand as it shook when she tried to reach for the bottled water again. 

“I’m not hungry. I’m just thirsty,” she said. 

“No, let’s give you something easy to eat,” he said as he called the front desk to order some Arroz Caldo, a chicken and rice porridge, for her, and some bacon and eggs for himself. 

“Did you watch over me the entire night?” she said, her expression wondering. 

“Yes, little one, I did,” he replied and sat on the other bed. “I came looking for you when you did not show up and found you asleep, and burning hot. Don’t you remember?” 

“No...” Anza was trying to remember, but came up blank. “The last thing I remember is taking a nap...”

He pushed the limp hair off her pale face, and gently pressed the cool, damp towel on her forehead, cheeks and neck, “Do you have any injury on you? Something that might have been infected?” She frowned in confusion, “I am trying to find out the source of your fever,” he explained. 

“No injury, but... I have a sore throat...” she replied and swallowed. “It feels swollen, too.”

“Say ahh,” he tipped her face up by the chin. She opened her mouth wide. Her tonsils were red and slightly inflamed. “Okay. Let’s see if it the swelling will go down within the day,” he said. It does not look too bad. He was relieved. The island is not equipped for serious medical cases.

“Rocco...” she called as he stood up to go to the bathroom. He looked back and waited for the rest of her statement.  

“Yes, little one?” he prompted. 

“You do not have to pay for my fee today, since I cannot accompany you,” she said. 

“Oh, don’t be silly. You are keeping me company,” he said dismissively. 

“No, you are nursing me. There is no need to charge you for the privilege,” she said. Her attempt at humour made him feel better. 

“Let’s discuss that later, little one. When you are better,” a knock on the door announced the arrival of the food, “For now, you and I will eat,” he said, and strode to the door, and took the food tray in. 

Despite Anza’s disinterest in the food, she almost finished the porridge. And this pleased him. He was reading a book while Anza rested when the phone rang. Edrigu is calling. 

“Good morning, sir,” he said, his mind already debating with his heart whether to tell Edrigu about Anza being sick. 

“How’s everything, Rocco? I am due to call Manuel in half an hour, so I need an update from you,” he asked. He understood that Edrigu is asking not just for the truth of the status of his mission, he wanted a plausible statement they can give to Manuel. 

He stepped out of Anza’s unit so they will not be overheard. “I have established a rapport, sir. But I am not yet confident that I can influence her enough to make her change her mind,” he replied.

“Is there anything you need to hasten the process? Manuel is undoubtedly worried and restless,” Edrigu said. 

“Yes, I need a commitment from him, sir. I think it might be the only thing that will convince Anza to return, and ensure she will not run away again,” he said. 

“What kind of commitment?” It intrigued Edrigu. 

“He needs to promise to allow Anza to make friends with humans, to establish long-term friendships and... relationships,” he said. There was silence on the other line. “Sir?” he prompted. 

“Is that what Anza wants?” Edrigu asked.

“Yes, sir,” he sighed. “She feels out of place in her own family, being the only Erdia among them. She cannot take part in any of the things they do as Vis. Her father treats her like a Vis, they all do,” he was driven to convince Edrigu to his cause. “But she is not at all like us. She does not want to live her brief life unanchored like our kinds do. We have the longevity to do this, she does not. She does not want to waste her temporary life living the Vis life, when she does not have the years to sustain it.” 

“I see,” Edrigu said. 

“Can you help me, sir?” he asked, unable to keep the plea from his voice. “I do not think Mr Soledad will listen to someone like me, but he will with you,” he said. 

“Rocco, Anza is sixteen. In Vis years, she is practically a baby. She is his father’s only child, daughter of his great love, the centre of his life. Therefore, he is understandably over-protective. While I see your point, a father’s love is something we cannot question,” Edrigu said, his tone gentle. 

“Sir, it is the only thing that would convince her to come home, and stay home. Without that promise, Anza might just run away again. I believe that Mr Soledad is due for transit next year, Anza might just do it again then. And this time, she might get lucky enough to disappear completely. It is the only way to keep her safe.” he was desperate now. 

“Okay, that is a good argument. I will do my best to convince Manuel to give her that,” Edrigu said, convinced. An enormous rush of gratitude flooded his heart. 

“Thank you, sir!” He can breathe easier now, Anza would be safe when he goes back to his training. He can focus with the rest of his life goals, he will not have to worry about her while he is away. 

“So, what update can I tell Manuel?” Edrigu asked. 

“Well, you can tell him I have covered leads in Naidi and Vayang, and I have not found her there, and that I am going Valugan next,” he said. 

“Okay. That will work. I don’t expect him to say yes immediately, but I will convince him of the merits of your plan,” Edrigu said. “I will call you in a day or so. Earlier if I succeed with Manuel at first try.”

Waves of confusing emotions washed over him when he realised that if Edrigu secured Manuel Soledad’s commitment tomorrow, he can reveal himself to Anza and convince her to go home. And if she agrees, perhaps in a couple of days, they will part ways. His time with her would end. 

He should be relieved. He should be happy that he is so close to completing his mission. Instead, he felt... deflated.

***

Anza woke up in the dim lamplight. Did she sleep all day? 

She glanced at the other bed and saw Rocco asleep. An opened book lying facedown beside him. He looked peaceful and boyish. This must be what he looked like when he was younger, before he took on whatever burden he seemed to carry on his shoulders. At twenty-three, he had always struck her as more serious than he should be, that despite his light-hearted manner, there was something grave underpinning his actions.

She stretched, her tight muscles protesting deliciously. She had been abed for far too long, and she was also sticky all over. Her penchant for feeling fresh propelled her to get up and go to the bathroom. After a short cool shower, she put on the same bathrobe she was wearing earlier. The sensation of cleanliness and the scent of the bathrobe gave her a sense of well-being. 

She padded out to her verandah, sat in one of the patio chair and enjoyed the cool sunset breeze on her face. The air smelled fresh and fragrant with the scent of sea air, grass and some unfamiliar vegetation. The day birds had changed shift with their nocturnal kin, their call now dominating the night air. 

She sat curled into herself, enveloped by the comforting darkness. Her first week in her journey for independence had been unexpectedly eventful. Fate seemed determined to show her a taste of being on her own quickly. If Rocco did not show up, she could have been sick alone, in a bed space, with no one to help her. 

Her father would be devastated if he never found her, or her body. And he will suffer for a very long time. Her impulsive action to run away was irresponsible and selfish. She must rectify it. She must relieve her parents’ anxiety about her health and safety. 

The door behind her slid open violently, startling her. A frantic Rocco followed. His eyes wild and furious. 

“What the hell, Anza!” 

Rocco loomed over her, his body vibrating with menacing energy. She looked up at him, confused at the anger on his face.

“What did I do?”

“I woke up, and you were gone. I was looking for you all over. I thought...” His tightly leashed fury visibly and audibly displayed. 

“I’m sorry. I wanted some air. I did not realise you would worry...” 

He stood looking down at her for a while, his fists tightly clenched. He lightly slapped her leg to make her scoot over, to give him room to sit down beside her. She did. Rocco sat down. 

“Why didn’t you wake me?” he said, calmly. The light from the bedroom no longer illuminating his face, hiding his expression from her. 

“You were sleeping peacefully. You need your rest too.” She tucked her legs under her to warm her toes. The night air has turned cold. 

Rocco sighed and scooped her into his lap. One hand covered her bare feet, warming them. She sat rigid for a moment, but gave in and settled into him, fitting herself in his chest, laying her head at the curve of his neck. This felt right, cradled in his arms. It was safety, comfort, affection all rolled into one warm cocoon. 

Ahh. The scent in her bathrobe is his. She recognised it now. 

“You scared me, little one,” he murmured. 

“I’m sorry. I did not mean to.” She inhaled deeply, filling her chest. With it, the decision borne out of the realisations that came to her tonight. “I seem to have a habit of unintentionally scaring the people who care about me.”

Rocco’s body tensed. She can sense his eyes on her, staring at her. How he can read her expression in this darkness is beyond her. 

“Have you come to an epiphany during your feverish moments?” 

That made her smile. “Not quite an epiphany. Just a realisation that I had been selfish. That I did not think about how much my father, my family would worry about me when I left like that.”

“So, have you changed your mind about this plan of yours? To be independent and away from your family?” There was a hitch in his voice that she did not quite understand, but she let it go. 

“Not quite. I still want to achieve independence. But perhaps I need to change it so as not to worry my parents unnecessarily. I am still a child in their eyes.”

“You can do it gradually, Anza. Not like this. Not cold turkey.”

“Yes,” she breathed, her eyes closing. “Not cold turkey.”

***

Rocco felt Anza’s weight settled on him as she fell asleep. The hand that was resting on his chest slid down to her lap. Her breathing became an even cadence. She sleeps like a child, complete, trusting, vulnerable. 

He took a deep breath and released it slowly, flushing away the remnants of the fear that gripped him earlier when he thought she wandered off in a fever-induced sleep and had fallen into some danger. He had searched frantically for her in the hallways, the stairs, half afraid that he might find her broken body there. 

He was in the garden when he looked up and saw someone smoking on their verandah. He realised that he did not check the one in her room. The only thing that stopped him from climbing the verandahs from the front was the smoking guy. He remembered rushing back to her room. The relief when he found her curled on the small couch overwhelmed him. Then he got angry at himself for overreacting. 

This little girl had successfully created a huge space in his heart, and this alarmed him. She is too young for him, and he has no time for love in his life right now. Her impulsiveness, her drive for independence, requires someone who can watch over her constantly. 

And he cannot afford to be derailed. His path is set and the timetable to each milestone fixed. This case was supposed to be just a stepping stone, but she’s turned out to be a divergence from the path he had chosen since childhood. 

His frustrated sigh echoed her sleepy one. She shifted in his lap, straightening her legs. He looked down at her sleeping form and cradled her closer, rocking her slightly. Holding her like this, entrusted in his keeping, somehow soothed his anxiety, making him believe that life will sort itself out in the long run. It gives him hope. 

Their conversation earlier showed him that the time to convince her to go home has come. That she is ready for it. She had loosened her grip on her idea of independence. She is willing to compromise. 

He knows that he can convince her to go home before the end of the day tomorrow if he applied himself to it. And they would be on her trip back home the day after. She would be with her father then, and he will be on his way. He would accomplish his mission with a day to spare. His life would be back to its normal path. 

Anza gave a small sneeze, reminding him that the night air is getting chilly, and she is still recovering. He stood up and carried her with ease back to the room, and laid her down on the bed, tucking her in. 

He stood by her door, trying to fight the desire to stay and do the right thing. The knowledge that he has another day with her made him close the door and walk to his own room. 

***

Anza was woken up by pangs of hunger. She was slightly disappointed when she saw the empty bed next to hers. Rocco must have decided last night she does not need watching anymore. 

It must be early still, as the sky is just lightening. She wondered if the kitchen is already open. She felt normal, although slightly weak. She attributed that to her lack of food. 

To revive herself, she took a full shower to wash away the remnants of her illness. She put on the dress that she bought the other day. The occasion called for it. She wanted to look good this morning. 

She got downstairs to have breakfast and found the coffee shop had just opened for the day. The staff were turning on lights and setting tables. The kitchen is not ready yet. They offered her coffee while she waited. 

She accepted it and took it with her as she walked to the bakery located two blocks away. She wanted the fresh air and the walk will do her good. A block on and she was slightly out of breath and reconsidering the wisdom of her decision. She rested and weighing the pros and cons of continuing on to the bakery - she was halfway there already - or going back to wait for the kitchen to open. 

She was gauging the distance between her two choices when he saw Rocco hurrying, his expression thunderous. She recognised the reason for that look. She waited for him to come closer and gave him her best heartfelt smile as he loomed over her. And it worked as intended. Rocco faltered in mid-step, and whatever he intended to say to her was forgotten at the sight of her beaming face. 

“Good morning, Rocco. What brought you out this early?” 

He blinked at her, twice. Resigned, he asked, “Why are you out this early, Anza?”

“I was hungry, and I want to buy bread,” she replied, pointing to the direction of the bakery. 

“You are not recovered yet to be walking this distance. You wait here, I will get you what you want. Anything in particular?” he said, pushing her to a wooden bench at the corner of the street. 

“I can go with you...” 

“No. You are already breathless. Just sit there, I will be back shortly. So what do you want?” He sounded like her father. It made her smile. 

“Some pandesal? Or anything with meat in it, like meat pies, or sandwich buns,” his eyebrow rose questioningly. “I’m hungry,” she said defensively. 

He reached out and touched her cheek gently, smiling. “That is a good sign. Your appetite is back. And your temperature is normal.” With one last appraising look at her, he departed. 

She watched him jog to the bakery. Her heart happy. She does not know how Rocco sees her apart from as a little sister, but she cannot deny that his affection and concern warms her soul.

The sound of jogging feet made her turn towards it. It seemed that there were other early riser today. To her surprised, she recognised the jogger. It was Diego. And he recognised her, too. He skidded to a stop in front of her. 

“Anza!” he exclaimed. The delight in his face clear. 

“Wow! What are you doing here, Diego?” 

“Jogging. We are staying four blocks away from here.” he pointed to the direction of the bakery. “I was on my way back to our hotel.”

“What a coincidence!” 

“Where are you staying? And why are you here?” he asked. 

“I was going to buy bread from the bakery. Rocco is doing that for me.” 

“Oh... so he’s still with you?” his frown had a shade of wariness in it. 

“Yes. He’s my keeper, remember?” 

“Yes, I remember. Although I still do not know what it means,” Diego said, his tone inviting an explanation from her. He would be disappointed as she has no inclination to do so - she does not know how to define it. 

In perfect timing, her keeper was approaching. 

“Good morning, Diego. It’s quite a coincidence to find you out and about this early in the morning,” Rocco’s deep voice was devoid of emotion, but thick with meaning. 

“Good morning, Rocco. I agree. It was quite a pleasant shock to encounter Anza here. But it made my day,” Diego's response was challenging. 

“It looks like you were out jogging, so we will not keep you. Anza needs to eat and to rest for now,” Rocco said, politely dismissive. But he grasped her elbow, his intention to bring about the eating and resting immediately was obvious. 

The highhandedness annoyed her, but she has no energy to argue with Rocco in the street, and certainly not in front of an audience. 

“Bye, Diego. It was nice to see you again,” she said as she waved him off. Diego had no choice but to nod. 

Rocco and she walked back to their hotel, a bag of bread in hand. They settled on a chair set outside of the coffee shop. Rocco took out the contents of his purchase. The smell of freshly baked bread made her mouth water. 

A pandesal and a beef bun later, she was a new woman. The coffee was the perfect pair to the breads. Rocco consumed the rest, and when the staff informed them that the kitchen is ready to take their order, he asked for scrambled eggs. 

“Your appetite is amazing,” she said. 

“I’m a growing boy,” he shrugged. “Plus, I am still hungry.”

“Oh, that reminds me,” her earlier annoyance at his demanding manner returned to her. “I dislike it when people make decisions for me.” 

His eyebrow raised, “Did you not need to eat and rest earlier? You braved the distance just to get something to eat, and you were breathless in the effort. That clearly shows you were both hungry and tired.” 

It was hard to argue with that. 

“Yeah, but that’s beside the point,” she was tempted to stomp her feet, except that it would be too childish to do so. 

“Well, you can discuss your point when you are completely well,” he said, ending the discussion on that topic. 

***

Anza and he spent the morning by the garden under the shade of the trees, with Anza napping a few minutes at a time. But she was on the mend. And he was glad. He wanted her completely mended when he discussed her return home. 

As he watched her doze, leaning against him, he thought she looked better in a dress. She looked less like a child in it than when she wore jeans and oversized shirts. She is at the brink of blooming into full womanhood. And it pains him he would not be there to watch it happen. 

For now, he needs to fulfil his mission. And that is to convince her to come home voluntarily. The opportunity came over lunch. He had the food delivered to her unit and set it up on her verandah. He wanted the ambience and the privacy when they talk, and it was perfect. 

Anza ate well. She even had a hankering for dessert, so he ordered some fruits for her. Over her ginger tea and his coffee, he raised the question that had been at the surface of his mind. 

“Anza, last night, you mentioned about modifying your plans to achieve independence. What is your plan now?” 

“I do not want my parents reassured that I am well. I do not want them to worry unnecessarily,” she said. 

“How do you plan to do that?”

“I’d like to borrow your phone, so I can text them and tell them I am okay. I plan to send them a regular message, perhaps, once a week,” her eyes held an appeal for him to say yes. 

“Anza, a text message once a week will not make your father stop worrying. Only one thing would do that. And that is for you to be with him,” his statement carried his own experience in that state of mind about her. 

“I cannot give up on my quest for independence, Rocco. It is crucial to my future,” her response carried desperation and regret. 

“You do not have to give up on your quest. There is a better way to do this.” 

“How?”

“Negotiate with your dad. Tell him why you want to do this and then ask him to allow you to make friends, establish a relationship with other people outside of your family.”

Anza was quiet as she digested his suggestion, determining the viability of it. “Do you think my dad would agree to it?” she asked, hope shining in her eyes.

“You are in a better position to answer that, Anza. I do not know your father... as well as you do,” he took a gulp of his coffee, “but, given his experience this past week, he would know that you are serious, and it is worth considering.”

“I think it will work. I wish I had asked him before I ran away,” she sighed. “I made them worry unnecessarily,” the regret, the sadness was back in her tone. 

“Well, look at it this way. The past week has enough weight to sway them to your cause,” he joked. 

She smiled. 

“So, are you ready to go home tomorrow?” He wanted to bring her to his father himself, to make sure she is safe. 

“Yes,” she nodded. “How about you, Rocco? When are you planning to leave here?”

“We can travel together, back to the mainland tomorrow.”

“Why would you cut short your visit here? Don’t do that, Rocco. I do not want you to miss the sites.”

“Anza, I can always fly back here anytime. Besides, I need to go to the mainland by tomorrow. There is something I need from there and I cannot get here,” he reassured her. He needs viscera sustenance by tomorrow. His vital hunger is surfacing. 

“Are you sure?” she looked doubtful. “You are not just saying that because you are taking your role as my keeper seriously, are you?”

“No, I am not just saying that because I am your keeper. And I take that role seriously.” he said, pressing her mouth closed when she was poised to argue. “So, it is settled. We are flying out together tomorrow.”

“Okay,” she agreed and got back to eating her fruits. 

Warm feelings invaded his heart as he watched her eat. And he wondered if he should tell her who he is, why he came here. Would she be angry at him for deceiving her?  Maybe he should warn her father not to divulge who he is to her. 

“After lunch, why don’t you go take a nap? I will go to the airport and buy our ticket.” 

“Okay, but let me give you money for my fare,” she said, standing up abruptly to get her bag. 

“It’s okay, little one, I can take care of it,” he said, holding her hand. 

“I insist, Rocco. Besides, I need not pinch pennies now. I am going home,” she said, her mouth set stubbornly. 

“Okay,” he said and let her go. 

Anza came back and handed him the money. 

“I should call my dad first. He could be in Manila,” she said, thinking aloud. 

“He won’t be,” he said on impulse. 

Anza looked at him, surprised, “How did you know?”

“Well, if I was your father, I would stay where you left him. Just in case you return,” he reasoned out, hoping that she would see that as logical. 

“Yes, I guess so.”

He got up and kissed her forehead. “Bedtime for you, little one. I will take care of our tickets.”

On the way to the airport, he battled mixed emotions of regret, sadness, gladness, hope and something that he cannot name. It was too alien for him to identify. All he knows is that it stems from the reality that he is parting ways with Anza by tomorrow.