“Kuya,” she whispered, holding a notebook, “pwede ba ’to?”
“Bring it,” I said.
She clutched it like it mattered more than clothes.
I packed minimal: phone chargers, documents, and a small kit—nothing weapon-like, nothing suspicious. Just practical.
Before leaving, I walked through the house once. The sala, the kitchen, the hallway, the bedroom. I looked at the walls like they were people I’m saying goodbye to.
Not because I loved the house.
Because I hated that we had to leave it.
But hate can’t lead. Strategy must.
At 2:40 PM, the unmarked vehicle arrived.
The officer told us to leave in small steps. Selena and Lola went first, escorted. I followed a minute later. We didn’t all walk out together with bags like a family going on vacation. That draws attention.
As Selena stepped o
