“He has given me control and independence from when I clocked 15, but this trust he has instilled in me now, I shouldn't jeopardize it and make any silly mistake” Johnson whispered. He was alone, down in the basement, head laid down on his fluffy mattress, eyes syncing with the swing the ceiling fan produced. He didn't stay, as proposed by Mr Emerson who must have landed in Philadelphia, he pondered. His boss's household has been thrown into a state of mourning. Mr Emerson had made a promise, when he's done with his final year exams at St Mark High school and also the prestigious State Scholarship examination for college enrollment, he would have a lengthy vacation with the Camaras and feel the warmth Philadelphia has to offer.“Oh my days, she must have replied my lengthy text” From the day he received the letter from Vivian, with her phone number placed at the back of their envelope and with a proposed date for both of them to meet, Johnson hasn't missed a day, consistently commun

10:30 AM, THE NEXT DAY. The breeze that blew through the town of Montiel seemed cooler than the past day, Johnson perceived. But what didn't seem cool and normal to him was the multiple times he sent her texts. Some delivered, the others weren't. His anxiety peaked. The thoughts of dashing through the gates, fighting against the heavy fists of the guards that stood gigantic at the gate of Alvarez Ortiz's mansion brew through the chambers of his heart. Moments after he had breakfast, Mr Emerson had dropped a message, they also indulged in a lengthy call— the digression of the moments his boss encountered at the airport. The misplacement of his device, how he took a wrong cab in the city of Philadelphia and got robbed of his belongings. Johnson reminisced on how bouyant Mr Emerson’s voice was, how he joyfully inquired about the affairs of the Barbershop and his welfare. Johnson, thrilled and amazed from the frequency of optimism his guardian entailed, kept walking on the sideways of

The bulbs in the living room glistened against the darkness of the sky. Johnson's head laid softly on the sofa’s edge. He had dozed off. His alarm beeped heavily, kicking him away from his trance.“ Oh my world, it's few minutes to 8 o'clock" he squinted, glancing through the clock on the wall. Her reply to his request didn't reflect on his phone’s screen. He wondered if he must have missed her calls or perhaps messages while he he unexpectedly dozed off.With deep scrutiny, he surfed through his messaging app and call logs. Johnson only discovered a random strange number with an unread text. Perhaps, Vivian still kept her reply pending. He remained bothered.His thumb double-thumped on the unread message.“I've spoken with Mr Emerson, I would get the package at the Barbershop tomorrow in the early hours, Mr Johnson” he read the message with a low tone.He swiped it away, switching to his s contacts log, anxiously seeking her number to dial. “There you go!” he whispered against the da

Vivian, legs crossed, hands still shivering. Lara’s call came in hours after her mother demanded her presence at the hospital. Chef Maggie's wish was holding Vivian’s hand, bading her one more goodbye before she passed on.Still in the disbelief and deep regrets, her teeth gnashing heavily to every word that pounded out from her mother's lips.“Why the heck would you guys put your phone on silent mode?” Mrs Alvarez, in reference to the delayed and missed calls. Both culprit, Vivian and Lara, felt the heavy breeze of guilt, blowing through the chambers of their heart. The early hours had them entwined in the arms of their highschool lovers. Vivian reminisced, in the climax of the tense moment with Jonas Dawson, when Lara dropped in a call in reference to her aunty's first missed call. The scenario, Vivian dropped a non-chalant response of silencing their devices and bask in the ecstasy of their fantasy. “You don't put your goddamn phone on silent again. Inasmuch as the preparations

MONTIEL TOWN6:25 AMThe first rays of sunlight had barely climbed over the rooftops when Juliet stepped into the small courtyard with a broom in her hand. The morning air was cool, carrying the smell of damp earth and the faint aroma of wood smoke from neighboring houses. A rooster crowed somewhere beyond the compound wall, followed by the distant sound of a motorcycle starting its engine.Ariana emerged from the doorway a few minutes later, tying her long curly hair into a loose ponytail. “Good morning, Mum.” Juliet glanced over her shoulder. “Good morning, my daughter. You slept late.”Ariana smiled as she picked up the second broom. “I was studying.”Juliet gave her a knowing look. “Studying or thinking?”Ariana laughed softly. “Both.” She began sweeping the other side of the courtyard. Dust gathered into little piles beneath the steady movement of the broom, while Juliet worked near the doorway. For several minutes, neither spoke. It was one of those quiet mornings in which their