Chapter 18

Elly is trapped in her nightmare. She's a helpless teen again, tied up and gagged with tape. Tears spill down her cheeks, but no sound escapes her. Panic grips her chest, choking her with each breath.

Then she sees him. Julio. Her older brother, kneeling in front of her, his voice soft and steady. "It's gonna be alright." He gently pulls the tape from her mouth, unties the ropes binding her hands and feet.

Just as relief starts to sink in, a loud bang—sharp, deafening. It shakes her to the core. Julio falls forward, his body going limp, a dark stain spreading beneath him.

"Elly…" His voice barely reaches her, a whisper in the chaos, before it fades completely.

"No! Julio!" Elly screams, but no sound leaves her throat. It's like the air itself is refusing her.

She jerks awake, gasping for air, drenched in sweat. The nightmare is over, but the terror still grips her. Her heart races, her mind reeling. It felt too real.

She quickly wipes her damp forehead, pushed herself up and made her way downstairs. The familiar scent of coffee and freshly baked bread filling the air. She grabbed a slice of bread and a mug of coffee, then wandered into the living room. Her eyes drifted over the photos lining the walls and the dining table, each one sparking a memory.

Her grandma joined her, gently picking up a childhood photo of Julio, Marcus and Elly from the table. The picture was slightly faded, edges curling with time, but the moments it held were timeless.

"Remember this?" her grandma asked, her voice soft as she handed it to Elly.

Elly's lips curled into a smile as she looked at the photo—a moment frozen in time. She saw herself, a young girl in overalls, standing between Marcus and Julio. They were in the yard of their old house, the three of them laughing as Julio had picked her up, tossing her into the air like she weighed nothing at all. The sunlight had been bright that day, casting a golden glow over everything.

"Julio always did love tossing you around," her grandma said, a fond chuckle in her voice. "You were always the little one, full of energy and mischief."

Elly's chest tightened as she gazed at the photo, the weight of the memory bringing both warmth and sorrow. She looked up at her grandma, who wore a gentle smile. "He made everything feel safe, didn't he?" Elly murmured, her voice a little thick.

Her grandma nodded, her expression soft and knowing. "He always had your back."

Her grandma looked at her quietly for a moment, the softness in her eyes never fading. Then, with a gentle sigh, she added, "Sorry about what happened to you and Julio. I know it's been ten years, and I know justice will come for what happened."

Elly froze for a second, the words hanging in the air like a weight she didn't want to acknowledge. The photo of her, Julio, and Marcus seemed to blur in her hands, the edges of the memory slipping into something more painful. She swallowed hard, trying to hold back the flood of emotions that always surfaced when the past was brought up.

Her grandma's tone was steady, almost matter-of-fact, but there was an undeniable warmth there too, as if she were offering Elly something she couldn't give in any other way—comfort through shared understanding. "I know," Elly murmured softly, her voice betraying more than she meant it to. "But sometimes it feels like... the past never really lets go."

Her grandma nodded, her hand gently resting on Elly's shoulder. "I understand. But you're not alone in it. Never forget that."

After breakfast, Elly wandered into the kitchen, her eyes searching for Nanay Conching, their old chief maid and cook. Conching had been more than just a helper—she was the one who had first inspired Elly to love cooking, her hands always moving with such grace, turning simple ingredients into something extraordinary.

Her grandma looked up from where she was tidying the counter, her expression softening with the mention of Conching's name. "Conching retired a few years ago," she said, a touch of nostalgia in her voice. "But her daughter, Gloria, is here."

Elly's eyes lit up at the mention of Gloria. "Can I visit her at her home?" she asked, her tone eager. She had so many memories of the times she'd spent in Conching's kitchen, learning little tricks and tips that had shaped her own love for cooking.

Her grandma nodded, a smile tugging at her lips. "I think that's a wonderful idea. Conching still lives just a few streets away."