SIXTEEN
738 Words
⚠️ Disclaimer:
This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or real events is purely coincidental.
All characters, incidents, and dialogues are products of the author’s imagination.
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🕊️ Chapter 16 – The Woman Who Rose from the Ashes
Althea woke to the faint scent of smoke and alcohol. The room was dim, the air cold. She was lying in a hospital bed, tubes running along her arm, and thick curtains drawn over the windows.
When she turned her head, she saw Xavier—sitting by her bedside, bandage across his forehead, holding her hand.
“Hey…” she whispered weakly.
His eyes widened, relief washing over him. “Thank God you’re awake.”
A tear rolled down Xavier’s cheek—something Althea had never seen before.
“I thought I lost you,” he murmured.
“We almost lost each other,” she replied softly, forcing a smile. “But why are we still alive?”
He sighed. “Someone found us. Fire rescue said it was an anonymous caller. No one’s claimed responsibility yet.”
“Anonymous?” she frowned.
Xavier nodded. “And the police said the fire was intentional. But every CCTV recording was wiped—every file deleted.”
Silence fell between them until the door creaked open.
Marco Monteverde entered, still wearing his leather jacket, exhaustion and guilt painted across his face.
“Glad you two made it,” he said quietly, avoiding their gaze. “But you can’t stay here. Someone’s looking for you.”
“Who?” Xavier asked, his tone sharp.
Marco hesitated. “No names. But I’m sure it’s Clarisse.”
The air turned heavy at the mention of her name.
“Clarisse Montemayor?” Althea asked in disbelief.
“Yeah,” Marco answered. “And she’s not alone. Someone else survived the fire too.”
“Who?”
Marco exhaled, pulling out a grainy CCTV photo from his jacket. The image showed a woman in a red dress, standing beneath a cemetery gate. The timestamp read 12:03 A.M. – San Rafael Cemetery.
“Lea…” Xavier whispered, voice trembling.
Marco said nothing—but his eyes confirmed everything.
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That night, while Xavier slept, Althea quietly rose from bed and approached the window.
Outside, under the glow of a lone streetlamp, stood a woman in a red dress.
It couldn’t be.
But when Althea blinked, the figure vanished. Still, something shimmered under the rose bush near the window—a silver pendant.
She picked it up, trembling. On the back, an engraving read:
> “For Lyka – Until We Meet Again.”
Her breath hitched. “Lyka…” she whispered. “My sister.”
She returned to the bed, heart pounding, trying to close her eyes. But she knew sleep would never come—not when ghosts of the past had begun to stir again.
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Two days later, they left the hospital. With Marco’s help, they relocated to a safehouse outside Lipa.
From there, they watched the breaking news on television:
> “Madrigal Enterprises temporarily suspends operations. Board under investigation for fraud and arson conspiracy.”
“Clarisse is cleaning up the mess,” Marco muttered. “All files about the Sandoval Case—gone.”
But Xavier stood, gripping the worn bag he had salvaged from the fire. “Not all.”
He unzipped it and revealed a small USB drive.
“This is the only thing left. And I think this is what they’re still after.”
Althea stepped closer. “So what now?”
Xavier met her gaze, his eyes dark but determined.
“We find Lea. She started this fire—maybe she’s the only one who can end it.”
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Meanwhile, inside the abandoned chapel of San Rafael, a woman sat before a shattered altar.
Her red dress was scorched at the edges, her skin marred with burns, yet her eyes burned with fierce resolve.
“They think it’s over,” Lea Sandoval whispered, her fingers brushing over an old cellphone. On the screen was a paused video—Xavier and Althea in the hospital bed.
“They burned my name… now I’ll burn their truth.”
A faint smile curved her lips—one filled with pain and vengeance.
Beside her lay a folder labeled: Project Lyka – Phase II.
Inside the folder—photos of Xavier, Althea, and Marco.
- Writer
