It was past midnight when we pulled into the underground parking of the abandoned museum in Escolta.
Old marble. Cracked statues. Faded paintings on the walls like ghosts of a Manila that had forgotten itself.
No one would think to meet here.
And I chose the person.
Camila de Leon.
My longest-serving assistant. My shadow. My last line of truth.
Sa loob ng tatlong taon, siya ang nag-aayos ng lahat — from my board schedules to burying confidential reports. She knew things others didn’t. She kept secrets no one else could.
Kaya kung may iisang taong puwedeng magsabi sa akin ng katotohanan tungkol sa Monteverde ngayon… siya ‘yon.
Camila was already waiting—nakatayo sa likod ng isang rusted elevator shaft, hooded, clutching a leather case like it was a bomb. Hindi siya gumalaw agad nang
