10:00 PM
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"Monica and Gwenette," Freyah murmured, jotting their names in her record book. "Tatay Timothy..."
She glanced at the others. "The twins, that student, Harley, and Florence..."
Each entry detailed their skills and timelines. Freyah checked her phone; since the apocalypse began, there had been no messages from her family in Bohol. Now, with internet services completely down, hope dwindled.
Sighing, she closed the record book, sealed it in a plastic bag, and placed it neatly in her backpack.
Tomorrow, they would head to the airport, as planned. Departure was set on the 19th of December.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
Freyah turned toward the door as Harley opened it slowly. "Ate Freyah, can I talk to you?"
"Yes," Freyah nodded, patting the bed beside her. "What do you want to talk about?"
"You mentioned that we will leave for the airport tomorrow."
"Yes, that's correct."