Her smile faltered. Just a fraction.
Then she switched tactics.
“Lucien,” she whispered, tears forming like magic. “Kagigising ko lang. Huwag mo naman akong i-interrogate.”
I stared at her.
The old me would have backed down.
Because guilt.
Because “fragile.”
Because “first love.”
But the image of Ysabelle flashed in my head—how she tries to be brave even when she’s breaking—without weaponizing it.
And suddenly, I couldn’t unsee the difference.
“Give me the phone,” sabi ko.
Mia’s eyes widened. “What?”
“Give me the phone,” I repeated, slower.
She shook her head. “You don’t trust me?”
“I’m trying,” sagot ko, voice tight, “but you’re making it impossible.”
She started crying.
Soft. Controlled. Enough to make anyone feel like a villain.
“Lucien… don’t do this,” she whispered. “
