CHAPTER 18: Trust Me, Just Once
2402 Words
I watched Dave walk away.
His footsteps slowly disappeared down the street.
I wanted to call him back.
I didn't.
I wanted to believe him.
I couldn't.
And that hurt more than I expected.
Because somewhere along the way, Dave had become familiar.
Too familiar.
He was the person I looked for whenever something went wrong.
The person who made stupid jokes when I wanted to cry.
The person who sat beside me without asking questions.
The person who somehow made everything feel less heavy.
And now—
I was looking at him like he was another secret.
I hated that.
I hated myself for even thinking it.
But after everything that had happened…
How could I trust anyone?
I looked down at the photograph again.
The person you should fear is the one who has been beside you from the beginning.
Who had been beside me?
Mama.
Lara.
Maria.
Dave.
But there was someone else.
Someone I hadn't thought about.
Someone who had been around long before Dave.
I turned the photograph over.
There was a faint mark in the corner.
A logo.
I recognized it.
FAST Logistics.
My stomach tightened.
Why would a logistics company logo be on an old family photograph?
I stared at it.
Then another thought came.
The debt.
The original claim.
The amount.
The documents.
The names.
Everything had started because of a debt.
But what if the debt wasn't the beginning?
What if it was the first thing someone wanted me to notice?
I quickly took out my phone.
I called Dave.
He didn't answer.
I called again.
Nothing.
I stared at the screen.
“Great.”
I shoved the phone into my pocket.
Then—
I heard a motorcycle.
I looked toward the street.
Not Dave.
A black motorcycle.
The rider stopped near the corner.
He didn't remove his helmet.
He simply looked at me.
Then drove away.
My heart started racing.
I ran back inside.
Locked the door.
Closed the windows.
And for the first time in a long time—
I wished Dave were there.
I hated that.
---
The next morning, there was a knock at the door.
I froze.
I didn't move.
Another knock.
“Althea?”
I knew the voice.
Lara.
I opened the door.
She stood outside.
Her eyes were red.
“You're alive.”
She gave me a tired smile.
“Disappointed?”
I almost laughed.
“Where were you?”
She looked away.
“Running.”
“From who?”
“Everyone.”
“That's not an answer.”
“I know.”
I stepped aside.
“Come in.”
She entered.
She looked around.
“Where's Dave?”
I stiffened.
“He left.”
“Why?”
“Because I questioned him.”
Lara looked at me.
“You think he's involved?”
“I don't know.”
She sighed.
“Then you should know something.”
“What?”
“Dave isn't the person you should be afraid of.”
I stared at her.
“Then who?”
She hesitated.
“Me.”
I frowned.
“What?”
Lara sat down.
“I've been lying to you.”
I crossed my arms.
“About what?”
“Almost everything.”
I wasn't surprised.
“Start talking.”
She looked at me.
“My mother isn't Maria.”
I froze.
“What?”
“Maria raised me for a while.”
“But she isn't your mother?”
“No.”
“Then who is?”
Lara looked down.
“Rosario.”
My blood ran cold.
“My mother?”
She nodded.
“I was born to your mother.”
I stepped back.
“No.”
“She gave me to Maria.”
“Why?”
“Because she couldn't keep me.”
“Why?”
“Because Victor was looking for me.”
I shook my head.
“Why would Victor want you?”
“Because I'm not the daughter he thought I was.”
“What does that mean?”
Lara took a deep breath.
“I'm the one who inherited the company.”
I stared.
“What?”
“The will wasn't divided between your father and Dave's father.”
She pulled a document from her bag.
“It was divided between the children.”
I read it.
There were three names.
Althea.
Amara.
Lara.
I stared.
Three daughters.
Three families.
One inheritance.
“What the hell…”
Lara looked at me.
“The three of us were supposed to inherit everything.”
I shook my head.
“Then why were we separated?”
“Because someone wanted the inheritance for themselves.”
“Victor?”
“No.”
“Then who?”
Lara looked at me.
“The person who changed the will.”
I frowned.
“Who?”
She whispered—
“Your mother.”
My chest tightened.
Again.
My mother.
Always my mother.
“Why?”
“Because she didn't trust any of us.”
“That's impossible.”
“She believed the company would destroy us.”
I sat down.
Lara continued.
“She divided us.”
“To protect us?”
“Yes.”
“Then why does everyone make her look guilty?”
“Because she did something else.”
“What?”
“She erased someone's name.”
“Whose?”
Lara looked at me.
“Dave's.”
I froze.
“What?”
“Dave was supposed to be part of the inheritance.”
I shook my head.
“That doesn't make sense.”
“It does.”
“How?”
“Because your mother believed Dave was dangerous.”
My stomach dropped.
“Why?”
Lara didn't answer.
Instead, she handed me another document.
I read it.
It was an old hospital record.
The patient's name was—
David Navarro.
But the date was wrong.
He was born three years before his official birth record.
I stared at it.
“That's impossible.”
“No.”
Lara shook her head.
“It's real.”
I looked at her.
“Then who is Dave?”
She whispered—
“That's what your mother is afraid you'll find out.”
---
I found Dave that afternoon.
He was sitting alone near the basketball court.
His motorcycle was parked nearby.
He looked exhausted.
I walked toward him.
He noticed me.
“You came.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I need answers.”
He nodded.
“Okay.”
I sat beside him.
For a few seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then I handed him the document.
He read it.
His expression changed.
“Where did you get this?”
“Lara.”
He stared at the paper.
“She told you?”
“Yes.”
He closed his eyes.
“What?”
“My father already knew.”
I looked at him.
“What?”
“He knew my birth record was changed.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
“Dave.”
He looked at me.
“You asked me who I am.”
I nodded.
He took a deep breath.
“I don't know.”
I stared at him.
“You don't know your own identity?”
“No.”
“Then why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I was scared.”
“Of what?”
“That you'd look at me differently.”
I swallowed.
“I'm looking at you differently now.”
He nodded.
“I know.”
I looked down.
“Are you dangerous?”
He laughed softly.
“No.”
“Are you lying?”
“No.”
“Did you know about the inheritance?”
“No.”
“Did your father?”
“Yes.”
“Did he know about my family?”
“Yes.”
“Did he know about Amara?”
“Yes.”
“Did he know about Lara?”
“Yes.”
I looked at him.
“Then why didn't you?”
“Because he never told me.”
I nodded slowly.
“You're telling me the truth?”
“Yes.”
“How do I know?”
He looked at me.
“You don't.”
I froze.
He continued.
“And that's okay.”
“What?”
“You don't have to trust me just because I ask you to.”
He stood.
“I'll give you reasons.”
I looked at him.
“Why?”
He smiled sadly.
“Because I don't want to be another person who tells you what you should believe.”
He turned to leave.
“Dave.”
He stopped.
I stood.
“I don't want you to leave.”
He turned around.
“Then I'll stay.”
Simple.
No questions.
No conditions.
He came back and sat beside me.
I looked at him.
“I don't know what we're doing.”
“Neither do I.”
“I don't know if I can trust you.”
“I know.”
“But I…”
I stopped.
He waited.
“I don't want to lose you.”
His expression softened.
“You won't.”
I looked away.
“Don't promise things you can't control.”
“Okay.”
He smiled.
“Then I'll say this instead.”
“What?”
“I'll keep choosing to stay.”
My chest tightened.
I didn't answer.
I didn't need to.
---
That evening, we returned to my house.
Lara was waiting.
My mother was there.
Amara too.
Three girls.
One mother.
One impossible history.
And Dave standing beside me.
My mother looked at him.
Her expression changed.
“Dave.”
He nodded.
“Mrs. Reyes.”
“You shouldn't be here.”
“I know.”
She looked at me.
“You need to send him away.”
I shook my head.
“No.”
Her eyes widened.
“Althea.”
“No.”
My voice was calm.
“You don't get to choose who stays with me anymore.”
Silence.
My mother looked hurt.
But I didn't take it back.
For years, she had made choices for me.
Who I could trust.
What I could know.
What I was allowed to ask.
Where I belonged.
Not anymore.
I looked at Dave.
He didn't smile.
He simply stood beside me.
My mother looked away.
“Then you deserve to know everything.”
Lara sat down.
Amara crossed her arms.
Dave looked at me.
My mother opened the old wooden box.
Inside was a small key.
She placed it on the table.
“This belonged to your father.”
“What does it open?”
“A room.”
“Where?”
She looked at Dave.
“Your father's old house.”
Dave frowned.
“My father doesn't have an old house.”
“He does.”
“Where?”
My mother took a breath.
“Cebu.”
I froze.
“Cebu?”
She nodded.
“He kept everything there.”
“Everything?”
“The original records.”
“About us?”
“Yes.”
“About my father?”
“Yes.”
“About Dave?”
She looked at him.
“Yes.”
Dave stepped closer.
“What is in that house?”
My mother looked at all of us.
“The truth.”
I stared at the key.
Then at Dave.
Then at Lara.
Then at Amara.
For the first time, we weren't four separate people carrying four different versions of the same secret.
We were standing in the same room.
Looking at the same key.
And maybe—
for the first time—
we were going to find the truth together.
---
That night, Dave walked me outside.
“Cebu?”
I nodded.
“Apparently.”
“When?”
“Tomorrow.”
He laughed.
“Your family really doesn't know how to do things slowly.”
I smiled.
“Look who's talking.”
He looked at me.
“Are you scared?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
I frowned.
“Why good?”
“Because it means you're paying attention.”
I laughed.
“You're weird.”
“You already knew that.”
We reached the gate.
He stopped.
“So…”
“What?”
“Are we okay?”
I thought about it.
“I don't know.”
He nodded.
“Fair.”
“But…”
He looked at me.
“I trust you more than I did yesterday.”
He smiled.
“Progress.”
“Don't get excited.”
“Too late.”
I smiled.
Then he suddenly became serious.
“Thea.”
“Hmm?”
“If something happens in Cebu…”
“What?”
“Don't leave me behind.”
I stared at him.
“You're the one who always tells me not to do stupid things.”
“I know.”
“So?”
“So I'm asking you.”
He looked directly at me.
“Stay with me.”
My chest tightened.
I nodded.
“Okay.”
He smiled.
“Good.”
He walked away.
I watched him until he reached his motorcycle.
Before he put on his helmet, he looked back.
I waved.
He smiled.
Then he left.
I closed the gate.
And for a moment—
everything was quiet.
Until my phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
I opened the message.
There was only one sentence.
«You should have let Dave go.»
I froze.
Another message appeared.
«Because when you reach Cebu, you'll finally learn who he really is.»
I stared at the screen.
Then another message.
A photograph.
Dave.
Standing beside my father.
But that wasn't the part that terrified me.
It was the date.
August 14, 2011.
The night Dave said his mother disappeared.
And beside my father—
was a six-year-old Dave.
Alive.
Smiling.
Holding the hand of a woman I had never seen before.
I zoomed in.
My blood ran cold.
Because the woman beside him—
was wearing the same necklace my mother had worn my entire childhood.
The silver necklace Maria said my father had given her.
And beneath the photograph was one final message:
«Ask Dave who the woman really is.»
I lowered my phone.
For the first time since I met him—
I realized I had never actually asked Dave about his mother.
Maybe I had been so busy trying to uncover my family's secrets…
that I had forgotten something important.
Dave had a family too.
And maybe—
his secrets had been protecting mine all along.
- Writer
