Surong Valley looked like a postcard someone forgot to Photoshop. Clear river water, smooth stones, mango trees leaning over the banks like gossipers eavesdropping, and the mountains framing everything in a quiet embrace.
Donita led them to a makeshift cottage made of bamboo, its roof woven from coconut leaves that rustled softly in the breeze. In the center stood a bamboo table loaded with baskets of food, the scents drifting invitingly into the air.
“Welcome to paradise,” he declared proudly. “Please remove your Manila stress before sitting inside.”
Dominic immediately stepped inside and flopped onto one of the bamboo benches. “I am reborn.”
Sophia stretched her arms toward the sky. “I am cleansed.”
Mae just laughed and handed out plates.
Within minutes, the riverbank turned into a
