The Ember and The Queen

Kai's POV

Dad calling...

I stared at the screen, watched it buzz in my hand for a good ten seconds before I hit decline. Manigas siya. After everything he did—after the betrayal, the manipulation, the silence when I needed him the most—where the hell does he find the nerve to call me now?

Like we could just... patch things up over one stupid phone call? As if his voice could undo years of neglect, of fear, of pain.

I tossed my phone onto the bed and sat there in the stillness, jaw clenched, chest tight. The nerve of that mindless prick.

He doesn't get to call me now.

Not after he watched me fall apart and did nothing. Not after he let Chesca do what she did and still had the audacity to protect their name over mine. I'm not your daughter when it's inconvenient, but now you want to talk?

No. He doesn't get that luxury.

Not anymore.

So I ignored the call. Deadma. Tuloy ang araw kahit anong drama pa ang gustong pasimulan ng hayop na 'yon.

I headed downstairs for breakfast, dragging my backpack along with me. I was halfway through spreading peanut butter on my toast when Tita Lynn peeked her head out from the kitchen.

"Tumawag pala si Tito Benjie mo," she said casually, flipping an egg on the pan. "Nagtanong siya kung natanggap mo na ba yung letter from Arden?"

I paused for a moment, the butter knife hovering mid-air, before forcing a smile.

"Tita," I said, brushing it off, "hindi pa nga ako sigurado kung doon ako magka-college, eh."

Tita Lynn raised an eyebrow, like she wasn't buying it, but didn't press yet. She placed the egg on a plate, sat across from me, and folded her arms.

"Akala ko ba gusto mo talaga sa Germany ka?" she asked, more curious than accusatory.

I sighed and shrugged, slicing my toast in half. "Yeah, noon yun, Tita. Di pa naman ako sure ngayon, eh."

She squinted at me, slowly putting the pieces together. "Nag-apply ka rin sa La Salle at Ateneo, di ba?" she asked carefully.

"Hmm," I nodded. "May mga scholarship exams din ako. Hinintay ko lang yung results."

Then she put down her utensils, turned her body fully toward me and said in that quiet, no-nonsense voice she uses when she knows I'm dodging. "Prankahin mo nga ako, Kai."

She sat beside me now, her hand gently resting on my arm. "Hindi ka na sigurado kung ipagpapatuloy mo pa ang Germany, dahil...?"

I hesitated, swallowing the lump in my throat.

Then I smiled—that kind of smile that tries to hide something too heavy for words—and glanced subtly toward Mama, who was seated in her chair by the window, humming softly to herself while staring out like the world had paused around her.

And in a voice barely above a whisper, I said, "Dahil hindi ako sigurado hanggang kailan ako may nanay."

Tita Lynn went still.

That silence that followed... it wasn't awkward. It was just full. Full of grief neither of us had the courage to speak out loud. She reached for my hand and squeezed it, and for once, I didn't pull away.

I didn't need to say anything else.

We both knew what I meant.

Then she said, "Nandito naman ako ah, ako magbabantay kay Ate. Hindi mo kailangang i-give up ang mga pangarap mo para lang mag-stay dito."