CHAPTER 16: The Things We Inherit
2699 Words
“She is protecting herself from you.”
Victor's words stayed in my head.
I couldn't move.
I couldn't even blink.
My mother's face kept appearing in my mind.
The way she used to tuck my hair behind my ear.
The way she waited for me when I came home late.
The way she always said—
“Walang mangyayari sa'yo habang nandito ako.”
And now Victor was telling me that she was afraid of me.
It didn't make sense.
Nothing made sense anymore.
“What does that mean?”
My voice was barely audible.
Victor didn't answer immediately.
Dave was still holding my hand.
I suddenly became aware of it.
His fingers were wrapped around mine.
Warm.
Steady.
I looked down.
He noticed.
Neither of us let go.
Not yet.
Victor looked at our hands.
Then at us.
“You two need to understand something.”
Dave's voice was cold.
“Then explain.”
Victor walked toward the desk.
He picked up another folder.
“Your parents weren't the only ones keeping secrets.”
He placed it on the table.
“Your identities were changed.”
Dave looked at the document.
“Why?”
“To protect you.”
“From who?”
Victor looked at me.
“From Rosario.”
I felt my stomach twist.
“My mother?”
“Yes.”
“You keep saying that.”
“Because it's true.”
“Then why should I believe you?”
“You shouldn't.”
I stared at him.
He continued.
“That's why I brought you here.”
He opened another folder.
Inside were photographs.
Documents.
Letters.
Birth records.
I picked up one photograph.
My father.
My mother.
Maria.
And Victor.
They were standing outside a hospital.
There was a date written underneath.
August 14, 2011.
I frowned.
“That's…”
“My birth year.”
Victor nodded.
“Yes.”
I looked closer.
There was something else.
A hospital bracelet.
Attached to my father's wrist.
I turned the photograph over.
There was writing on the back.
Two babies. One record.
My heart stopped.
“Two babies?”
Dave leaned closer.
“What does that mean?”
Victor didn't answer.
I looked at him.
“Two babies?”
He sighed.
“Your mother gave birth to twins.”
The room went silent.
I laughed.
Not because it was funny.
Because my brain couldn't process another revelation.
“Twins?”
Victor nodded.
“You had a twin sister.”
I stared at him.
“Had?”
He looked away.
“Your mother told everyone the other baby died.”
My chest tightened.
I looked at Dave.
He looked just as shocked.
“Then where is she?”
Victor didn't answer.
I slammed my palm on the table.
“Where is she?”
He finally looked at me.
“I don't know.”
“You expect me to believe that?”
“I don't know where she is now.”
“Now?”
His silence was enough.
“Victor.”
He sighed.
“The other baby was taken.”
My blood ran cold.
“Taken by who?”
“Your mother.”
I stepped back.
“No.”
“Your mother believed one of the twins was in danger.”
“Which one?”
“You.”
I shook my head.
“Why?”
“Because someone wanted you dead.”
“Who?”
Victor looked at Dave.
Then back at me.
“Your father's business partner.”
Dave frowned.
“Who?”
Victor didn't answer.
Instead, he pushed another photograph across the table.
I looked at it.
My father was standing beside a man.
The man was smiling.
I didn't recognize him.
But Dave did.
He went completely still.
“That's…”
“What?” I asked.
He pointed.
“My father.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
Dave's voice was almost a whisper.
“My father is the man beside yours.”
Victor nodded.
“Yes.”
Dave shook his head.
“No.”
He grabbed the photograph.
“My father wasn't in business with him.”
“He was.”
“No.”
“Your father lied.”
Dave stared at the photograph.
His breathing became uneven.
I touched his arm.
“Dave.”
He didn't respond.
I squeezed his arm.
“Dave.”
He finally looked at me.
His eyes were full of something I couldn't name.
Anger.
Fear.
Maybe grief.
“My whole life…”
He stopped.
“My whole life, I thought he was just a businessman.”
Victor looked at him.
“He was more than that.”
Dave laughed bitterly.
“Apparently everyone was.”
I understood exactly what he meant.
Everyone had a secret.
Everyone had a version of the truth.
And somehow, we were the only ones who had been left in the dark.
---
We left Victor's office without another word.
The elevator ride down was silent.
I stood beside Dave.
He kept staring at the floor.
When the elevator doors opened, we walked outside.
Neither of us spoke until we reached the sidewalk.
Then Dave stopped.
“I need air.”
I nodded.
We walked toward a small park across the street.
There was a bench beneath a huge acacia tree.
Dave sat down.
I sat beside him.
For several minutes, we just listened to the traffic.
Finally, he spoke.
“I'm sorry.”
I looked at him.
“For what?”
“You got dragged into this because of me.”
I frowned.
“You didn't create this.”
“I still brought you to my father's office.”
“I agreed to come.”
“You shouldn't have.”
I looked at him.
“Stop.”
He looked at me.
“Stop blaming yourself for everything.”
He smiled sadly.
“You sound like me.”
“Exactly.”
He laughed quietly.
“That's unfortunate.”
I smiled.
“Very.”
The smile disappeared from his face.
He looked down.
“What if he's right?”
“About what?”
“What if our parents really changed everything?”
I thought about it.
“Then we'll find out.”
“And if we don't like what we find?”
I looked at him.
“Then we deal with it.”
He nodded.
For a while, neither of us spoke.
Then his shoulder leaned against mine.
I didn't move.
Neither did he.
---
“Can I ask you something?”
I looked at him.
“Sure.”
“If you found out your mother really did something terrible…”
He paused.
“Would you still love her?”
The question hit harder than I expected.
I looked at the ground.
“I don't know.”
He nodded.
“I think I would.”
“Even if she lied?”
“Yes.”
“Even if she hurt people?”
“I don't know.”
I sighed.
“Maybe that's the problem with family.”
“What?”
“You can be angry with them and still love them.”
Dave smiled.
“That's exactly it.”
I looked at him.
“Why?”
“Because family doesn't come with an off button.”
I laughed softly.
“That's actually a good line.”
“Thank you.”
“Don't get used to compliments.”
“Too late.”
---
My phone rang.
Mama.
I stared at the screen.
I didn't answer.
It rang again.
I still didn't answer.
Then a message appeared.
«Mama: Anak, please come home. We need to talk.»
I showed it to Dave.
He looked at me.
“Do you want me to come?”
I nodded.
“Yes.”
He stood.
“Okay.”
---
When we reached my house, the front door was open.
I froze.
“Ma?”
No answer.
I stepped inside.
The living room was empty.
The kitchen was empty.
“Ma?”
Dave followed me.
“Maybe she's upstairs.”
I checked.
Nothing.
My bedroom door was open.
Everything looked normal.
Except—
the cabinet.
It was open.
The old cabinet where my father's documents were stored.
Someone had gone through it.
Papers were scattered across the floor.
I rushed toward it.
“Ma!”
Nothing.
Dave crouched down.
“Look.”
He picked up a photograph.
It was one I'd never seen before.
A woman holding two babies.
My mother.
Maria.
And two newborn girls.
I stared.
“That's me?”
Dave looked at the photograph.
“There are two babies.”
I nodded.
One baby had a small bracelet.
The other didn't.
I turned the photograph around.
Written on the back:
Baby A — Althea Reyes
Baby B — Lara Navarro
My hands went numb.
“No.”
Dave looked at me.
“What?”
I pointed.
“Lara.”
He stared at the names.
“Lara…”
I nodded.
“The other baby wasn't my twin.”
He looked confused.
“Then what?”
I stared at the photograph.
“She's Maria's daughter.”
Dave's face changed.
“Wait.”
I looked at him.
“Your father said your mother had twins.”
“No.”
I shook my head.
“Your father said my mother had twins.”
Dave stared at me.
“Then why is Lara there?”
“I don't know.”
We heard a sound upstairs.
A door closing.
Dave immediately stood.
“Stay here.”
“No.”
“Thea.”
“I'm coming.”
We walked upstairs slowly.
Another sound.
From my mother's room.
Dave opened the door.
Empty.
The window was open.
The curtain was moving in the wind.
I walked toward the window.
There was a small envelope on the floor.
I picked it up.
My name was written on it.
Again.
ALTHEA.
I opened it.
One sentence.
“If you want to know why Lara was given to another family, ask your mother about the night she chose you.”
I stared at the words.
Dave read over my shoulder.
“What night?”
I didn't know.
But I suddenly remembered something.
Something from when I was little.
A memory I hadn't thought about in years.
A hospital.
A hallway.
My mother crying.
And another woman shouting.
I closed my eyes.
Then—
I remembered a voice.
“You can't take both of them.”
My eyes opened.
“Dave.”
“What?”
“I remember.”
“What?”
“The night I was born.”
He stared at me.
“You were a baby.”
“I know.”
“But I remember something.”
“What?”
I looked at the photograph again.
“My mother wasn't alone.”
“Who was with her?”
I swallowed.
“Maria.”
---
We searched the house for almost an hour.
Nothing.
Mama was gone.
No note.
No explanation.
Only the envelope.
At around ten that evening, my phone rang.
Unknown number.
I answered.
“Hello?”
A man's voice.
“Althea.”
I froze.
“Who is this?”
“You shouldn't have gone to Victor.”
My heart began pounding.
“Who are you?”
“You're asking the wrong questions.”
“Where is my mother?”
Silence.
Then—
“She went where she should have gone fifteen years ago.”
“What does that mean?”
“You'll find out soon.”
The call ended.
I stared at my phone.
Dave took it from my hand.
“Who was that?”
“I don't know.”
Then my phone vibrated again.
A picture appeared.
I opened it.
My blood ran cold.
It was my mother.
She was sitting in a car.
Her hands were tied.
I couldn't breathe.
“Dave…”
He looked at the photograph.
His face hardened.
“When was this taken?”
I checked the details.
One minute ago.
Another message came.
«Unknown: Come alone.»
Then another.
«Unknown: Or Rosario dies.»
I looked at Dave.
He immediately shook his head.
“No.”
“I have to go.”
“No.”
“My mother—”
“We'll call the police.”
“What if they hurt her?”
He grabbed my shoulders.
“Then we don't make a stupid decision.”
I stared at him.
“You don't understand.”
“I do.”
“No, Dave.”
I pulled away.
“She's my mother.”
“I know.”
“And I can't just sit here.”
“I know.”
“Then let me go.”
He stared at me.
“No.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“I said no.”
“You can't tell me what to do.”
“I know.”
“Then move.”
He didn't.
Instead, he stepped closer.
“I know you can take care of yourself.”
His voice was quiet.
“I know you don't need someone to save you.”
He took a breath.
“But I'm not letting you walk into this alone.”
I stared at him.
He looked terrified.
Not for himself.
For me.
“You're impossible.”
“I know.”
I almost laughed.
But tears were already forming in my eyes.
“I don't know what to do.”
His expression softened.
For once, he didn't joke.
He simply held out his hand.
“Then we'll figure it out.”
I looked at his hand.
Then at him.
I took it.
Not because I needed saving.
Not because I suddenly fell in love.
But because for the first time in my life—
I didn't want to carry everything alone.
---
We were about to leave when another message arrived.
This time, there was no photograph.
Only a sentence.
«Unknown: Ask Dave what happened on the night his mother disappeared.»
Dave froze.
I looked at him.
“What?”
He didn't answer.
“Dave?”
His face had gone pale.
“What happened?”
He slowly looked at me.
“I don't remember.”
“What do you mean?”
“I told you I was six.”
“Yes.”
“I told you my mother kissed me goodbye.”
“Yes.”
He swallowed.
“But…”
“But what?”
He looked terrified.
“I just remembered something.”
“What?”
“My mother didn't leave that night.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“She came back.”
My heart stopped.
“What are you saying?”
He closed his eyes.
“I saw her.”
“Alive?”
He nodded.
“And she wasn't alone.”
“Who was with her?”
He opened his eyes.
Then whispered—
“Your father.”
I couldn't breathe.
Dave looked at me.
“And my mother was carrying a baby.”
I stared at him.
“What baby?”
He shook his head.
“I don't know.”
Then his phone rang.
We both looked at the screen.
Dad.
Dave answered.
“Hello?”
There was silence.
Then Victor's voice.
“Dave.”
“What?”
“Where are you?”
“At home.”
“Don't lie to me.”
Dave's expression hardened.
“What do you want?”
Victor's voice became urgent.
“Listen carefully.”
A pause.
“Your mother is alive.”
Dave stopped breathing.
I grabbed his arm.
Victor continued.
“And if you want to see her…”
Another pause.
“Bring Althea.”
The call ended.
Dave slowly lowered the phone.
I looked at him.
“Your mother is alive?”
He nodded.
“And Victor knows where she is?”
“Yes.”
I swallowed.
“Then why does he need me?”
Dave looked at me.
Neither of us had an answer.
But somewhere deep inside me, I already knew.
This wasn't about the debt anymore.
It wasn't about the house.
It wasn't even about Maria.
Someone had spent fifteen years separating our families.
Changing names.
Hiding children.
Creating debts.
And rewriting the past.
And now—
they were bringing us back together.
For a reason.
The only question was—
were Dave and I finally finding the truth…
or were we being led straight into the trap?
- Writer
