Miggy's POV
Another day at work.
"All right, I'll call Andrew later so they can fix it right away," Meynard said after I finished explaining tomorrow's tasks.
Despite the traffic, today's trip wasn't so bad. At least we made some progress and didn't waste too much time on the road.
"Hi, Mom!" I greeted cheerfully when I saw her awake. She was smiling while chatting with Carla.
"Miggy, son!" she beamed, then gave Meynard a warm smile.
"We brought food. Of course, I didn't forget your favorite pasta," I said as I placed the containers on the table. Then I walked over and kissed her forehead.
While Carla and Meynard busied themselves prepping our meal, I sat beside her on the hospital bed.
"How are you feeling?" I asked gently.
"I'm okay, son. I'm sorry for making you worry," she said softly.
"It's fine, Mom. Just promise me you won't ever do that again," I replied.
She didn't speak. She just shook her head slowly, tears welling in her eyes. I reached up and gently wiped them away with my thumb, trying to soothe her.
"Are you hungry?" I asked, changing the subject. She nodded, and I turned to check the food we brought.
"Hold on, I'll fix your plate." As I stood, Carla helped Mom sit up and adjusted the bed tray so she could eat more comfortably.
"Here," I said when I returned, "want me to feed you?"
"It's okay; I can do it. Go get your food so we can eat together," she insisted. "Carla, Meynard—join us. We should all eat together."
She waited until each of us had taken our own food before starting her meal. It was a small but heartening sign—her insistence on eating together, like old times.
Dinner was quiet but comforting. We filled the silence with light talk, steering the conversation toward cheerful things to keep her spirits up. She didn't talk much, but she smiled now and then, even laughed a little at Meynard's jokes. It wasn't like before, but seeing her laugh—even just a little—felt like a big step forward.
We stayed until she fell asleep. When it was finally time to leave, I turned to Carla.
"Carla, I'm really sorry we have to leave again. Please take care of yourself too, okay?"
"Sir, can we talk outside first?" she asked quietly.
"Yeah, sure," I said. "Nard, stay here. If she wakes up, just tell her we went out for coffee."
Carla and I stepped outside into the hallway. As soon as the door closed behind us, she turned to me.
"Sir, Ma'am's doctor spoke to me earlier. We made sure she didn't hear us."
"What did he say?"
"He's recommending that Ma'am Barbs speak with a psychiatrist again. He said there are things she keeps to herself—things too heavy to share. That's why she started drinking—to forget. She's also having trouble sleeping. The doctor thinks she might be carrying regrets, especially about things left unsaid with your dad. She never got closure, sir, and the grief is burying her."
I swallowed hard.
"She might fall into depression if we don't intervene soon. She needs someone she can trust with those thoughts—someone trained to help her unpack everything."
"Okay. I understand. Thank you for handling this," I said. "Did you ask the doctor if he could recommend someone?"
"I forgot to ask, but I'll talk to him during his next visit."
"There's one more thing, sir," she added. "Meynard's mom visited with his sister earlier, Jenny. She mentioned your dad and even offered to accompany Ma'am Barbs to visit him at Heritage. But... Your mom told them he's not there. She said, "'Your dad is waiting for me in his study'.'"
I felt like the air had been punched out of me.
"She really needs help. She's still in denial that Dad's gone," I murmured. The pain clawed at my chest.
"I'm sorry, Mom. I'll take the blame. If only I had listened—if I hadn't pushed him away that day—he might still be with us. I should've let him explain."
I looked at Carla. "Please follow up with the doctor tomorrow. Ask if he can recommend someone here, within the hospital. It'll be easier for her if the sessions are close by. I'd do it myself, but I'm swamped. The president handed me a major campaign, and I can't leave the office until it's wrapped."
"No problem, sir. I'll take care of it and update you," she said, smiling gently.
"Thank you, Carla. You've been such a blessing to Mom—and to me. I owe you."
"It's okay, sir. I understand your situation. I'm just happy I can be here for her while you're busy. But don't wait too long, sir. She needs you too."
"Yeah," I sighed. "The guilt's eating me up. I should be spending more time with her, especially now."
"She understands. Just don't wait too long to show it. It's late—you should head home," she said, wrapping up the conversation.
"Thanks again. I'll wait for Meynard outside. Please tell him we're leaving but don't wake Mom."
She nodded and slipped back into the room. A few minutes later, Meynard came out, and we walked together to the parking lot.
***
The Next Day.
"Sir, the next screening is scheduled for the day after tomorrow," Meynard reported while checking my calendar on his tablet. "The client rep will be available then too. Same venue to avoid complications. Neri's coordinating with the hotel."
"Good," I replied. "What about that other project? The one for the local toothpaste brand?"
"They're asking when you're available for their presentation."
"Set that up. You know my schedule better than I do. Just let me know once it's locked in."
"Will do. Also, the president wants to speak with you. You can drop by his office any time before lunch."
"All right. I'll finish this first, then head up."
"Okay. I'll check in with the team," he said before stepping out.
Once alone, I tried focusing on the documents, but my mind wandered. Eventually, I got up and went to the president's office.
He greeted me warmly and asked about my mom—clearly, word had spread. After that, we dove into work matters: ongoing campaigns, upcoming launches, and timelines. The meeting took longer than I expected.
By the time I left his office, it was lunchtime. I found Meynard waiting for me in the lobby, reading while he waited. We headed to lunch together.
Gabie's POV
"Besh! Besh!"
"Oh! It's you, Jhay. Come in," I heard Mama call out from the living room. "Gabie's still in the shower. She just woke up—she was working on something for school last night."
"Hi, my beautiful aunt! aunt!" That's my best friend for you. Always dramatic, always loud—and always greeting my mom like she's a movie star. He never misses a chance to gush over her looks. To be fair, Mama does have that classic Filipina-American beauty, thanks to my grandpa.
"Hey! You're so loud, the whole barangay can probably you! you!" I shouted as I stepped out of the bathroom, towel around my head, heading to my room to get dressed. I caught Jhay rolling his eyes at me, but I ignored him. I was used to his antic Hmph!!
"Hmp! What's wrong with being happy, huh? Just so you know, I've got good news, and I'm extra today! today!" he announced, puffing up like a peacock.
I didn't respond. I was in a rush to get dressed—I had a one o'clock class, and it was already almost noon. But from the excitement in his voice, I could tell something big had happened. He always gets this noisy when he's thrilled. Good thing our neighbors are patient. Miraculously, no one's ever complained about his volume—probably because he's always been like this.
Once I was dressed and out of my room, I sat across from him. "Okay, spill. What's this news? news?"
He practically leapt off the couch. "The ad agency called me this morning! You're in for a screening!"
He jumped and screamed like he'd just won the lottery. Honestly, he seemed more excited than I was.
"Hey! Keep it down! We don't want the neighbors regretting kindness!" I scolded, giving him a playful slap on the shoulder.
"Ouch! You're so violent! Aunt, your daughter may be pretty, but she's got a hand! hand!" he whined, turning to Mama like a sulking child.
Mama just laughed, still busy packing items for her online orders—clothes, shoes, makeup, jewelry, and even frozen foods. That's my mom: beautiful, smart, and hardworking.
Jhay turned back to me. "Seriously, aren't you happy? Don't you want famous?"
I stood still in front of the mirror, staring at my mom as she worked. I was quiet for a moment.
"It's not that I'm not happy," I said, "but I can't shake the nerves. This is the first time I've joined an audition like that. Print ads are easier—I'm used to them. But this? This is different. I was shaking just thinking about facing the camera. There were so many girls there who were more experienced than me. Some have done tons of TV commercials."
"That's why I pushed you to try!" he said firmly. "Yes, there were pretty girls—but do they have your charm? Your look? The staff told me the client specifically wanted someone new. A fresh face—not someone who's already been in a dozen ads."
"Well, let's be grateful I made it to the next round," I said, trying to stay grounded. "But let's not get ahead of ourselves. I'm not counting on anything yet. If it's meant to be, it'll happen. And if not, I've still got other print gigs."
Mama chimed in after listening quietly. "What did they have you do audition?"
"They just asked me to stand in front of the camera, state my name, and name, then smile. They did a close-up to check my skin texture," I explained.
"Well, that doesn't sound hard. Why were you nervous?" Mama asked.
"Mom, it's so different when you're in front of a rolling camera. With photos, you hold a pose. But in videos, every little twitch shows. I felt ten times more self-conscious than I ever have in a go-see."
Mama gave me a soft smile. "Then just listen carefully to what they ask, follow instructions, and give it a try. If this is a clean, honest way to earn, then there's no reason to doubt yourself. Don't overthink it. Forget about the camera. Forget about who might be watching. Just do your best."
I couldn't help but smile. Her words comforted me more than she knew. She's always supported me, but something about this audition felt bigger—like it could change things.
"Thanks, Mama," I said, walking over to kiss her on the cheek. "Anyway, I'm heading out. I don't want to be late for class."
"Take care, my dear," she said warmly.
"You too, Mom! And please—remember that walking in the street isn't like walking around inside the house so be careful!"
Then I turned to Jhay. "And you—stay with Mama while I'm gone, okay? Thanks for the news. I'll be home early; just two classes today."
"No problem, beshie! I'll keep Aunt Beauty company," he said proudly. "I've got nothing else going on today anyway."
"Good. Thanks again. See you later!" I waved as I rushed out the door.
That's Jhay—my best friend, my personal cheerleader, and my honorary brother. He hangs out at our place so often he might as well live here. He even sleeps over when we have late-night shoots. He tags along to every gig. There's never a dull moment with him—unless something's wrong. When he's hurting, you'll see the exact opposite of his usual energy.
I remember how quiet he was when his dad had that accident—he fell while mixing cement and landed on a steel bar. It was bad, but thankfully the company covered all medical expenses and even gave a bit of compensation. Still, Jhay had to stop school. What he earns from our gigs goes to his tuition, daily needs, and helping his mom support their household. He's the eldest of three kids, and he shoulders that responsibility with quiet strength.
That's my best friend. Loud, dramatic, loyal, and full of heart.
Miggy's POV
"Nard, do I have anything else to do after this? ?"
"Nothing for now, unless something urgent comes up. Why do you ask, sir? "
"The private investigator called. His name's Willie—I only realized it after checking the caller ID. He said, we need to meet because he has something important to share."
"Got it. I'll handle things here and keep you posted."
"I can't wait for you. I have to get to the hospital early to talk with Mom's psychiatrist."
I hurried out. It was only three in the afternoon—still early enough, and thankfully, the traffic wasn't bad.
"I'm sorry for the sudden call, Uncle," I said when I saw him waiting in the lobby. I'd called ahead to explain what Willie told me. "Thanks for coming."
"It's no problem. This matter's important to me too."
We walked to the private room I'd reserved.
"Good afternoon. I apologize for the sudden meeting. I've gathered some information during my investigation," Willie began. "I went to the address you provided and asked around, but no one seems to know where she moved next."
"Heard from a neighbor—a former taxi driver—who helped carry her belongings when she moved out. I found him and asked him to take me to her new place, but unfortunately, she's no longer there."
"The landlady said she moved out about six months after giving birth. She mentioned Teresa had a baby girl but didn't know where they went. I also checked hospitals and found she gave birth at Manila Hospital."
"I tracked down the schools the child might have attended, but every time I found an address, they'd already moved again. It's a constant cycle, but I'm confident I'll find their current location soon."
Uncle Rick leaned forward, thoughtful. "She really doesn't want Gabriel to find her."
"That's right," Willie agreed. "She's serious about keeping her distance, just like she said on the card—not to look for her."
Meynard and I silently scanned the documents on the table, absorbing everything.
"It's unusual," Uncle Rick said quietly. "Most mothers would chase after the father for their children's rights. This woman's different."
"Maybe she wants to avoid trouble, especially since Mr. Sansebastian is well-known in the entertainment industry," Willie added. "She's lucky in a way—no scandals or public drama."
"It's impressive," Uncle Rick nodded. "Moving around like that with a child can't be easy."
Meynard agreed. "She's brave, raising her child on her own."
As for me, I was stunned again by what I'd learned.