Dejected

Miggy's POV

I was on a call with Willie again, asking for his services to help with Gab's case. I wanted him to start digging because even before Gab admitted it, I could already sense she was struggling with her identity. I understood what she was going through. It's like living your whole life not knowing who you really are.

I gave Willie all the details he needed for the investigation and even asked him to speak with Teresa. She might remember some friends of her twin who could provide useful leads.

I tried talking to Gab once—just to ask how she was—but all I saw was her breaking down. She kept saying her life was too painful and confusing. I couldn't blame her. If I were in her place, I'd probably feel the same way.

I'd also spoken to a few of my connections, asking for help with Marites's case. I want to fix everything for Gab before I leave. She has no idea what I've been doing these past few days because I'm making sure I get it right before telling her. I can't deny it—Gab already holds a special place in my heart. That's why I'm doing this.

Then Meynard called.

Gabie was missing.

I rushed to the hospital.

"What happened?" I asked Jhay the moment I saw him sitting beside Teresa, both of them clearly distressed inside Gabie's private room.

"I don't know," Jhay said, wiping his tears. "I was at home when aunt called and said Gabie was gone. I came here as fast as I could."

I turned to Teresa. "Where were you when it happened?"

Still crying, she said, "I went to get coffee and her favorite food. I thought she'd be hungry when she woke up. But when I came back, she was already gone."

"What about the medical staff? Did anyone notice anything?"

"No one saw her leave. She was no longer wearing her hospital clothes, so no one thought she was a patient trying to sneak out," she explained, her voice trembling.

"I'll talk to the hospital management and have the CCTV reviewed," I said before heading out.

My thoughts were spinning. "God, when will this agony end? I just want a quiet life. Why is this happening now?"

I couldn't just walk away—not even after everything. No matter how painful things have been, this isn't something I can ignore. She's still my father's daughter. My sister. Whether I like it or not.

I called in a few favors and had the hospital's CCTV footage reviewed. We had no idea what Gabie was wearing when she left, but I hoped something would show up. What we found only deepened the mystery.

The only footage was of Gabie leaving the room and walking toward the elevator. After that—nothing. No footage of her exiting the elevator. Not even a glimpse in the parking lot. It was as if she vanished.

I went everywhere I could, dressed down to avoid attention, asking questions, showing her photo. I didn't rely solely on the police—I made my own moves. I even had Jhay create a social media page to help with the search and offered a reward to anyone who could give us information. Her disappearance was reported on TV, radio, and even newspapers. But days passed—and we still had nothing.

Teresa asked her online customers to keep an eye out too. But still, no leads.

The next few days, I was caught between two investigations—Gab's identity and Gabie's disappearance. I hadn't even noticed that Mom had already returned home until she called, asking me to visit her. I didn't want her to suspect anything, so I went.

It turned out to be a good thing. The next day, while Mom and aunt Beth was busy baking, I finally got the chance to talk to uncle Manuel alone.

I told uncle Manuel everything that had happened while they were still in the United States. I knew he had more connections than I did—he could help me in ways I couldn't manage on my own.

We were still talking when Mommy suddenly appeared right in front of us.

"What do you mean? Who is missing?" she asked, her tone confused and sharp. Her sudden presence caught both uncle and me off guard. We exchanged a glance—we both knew we were cornered. We hadn't planned to tell her this soon, but there was no more hiding it. No more loopholes.

"Tell me. Who's missing?" she asked again, her voice rising slightly, brows furrowed as if trying to piece together what she had overheard.

Uncle Manuel cleared his throat before responding. "Calm down, Barb. We'll explain everything, alright? But please, you need to stay calm first."

He turned to his wife and called out, "Beth! Can you come here? Please bring some water for Barb!"

"Sit down, Barb," uncle said gently, guiding Mommy toward the couch. "We just need you to listen. We need your full understanding of this situation."

She did as he asked, slowly sitting down. But the moment we started explaining, I saw her face change. Her tears fell freely as she shook her head, disbelief etched in every line of her expression.

What started as a happy reunion ended in pain, grief, and seething anger—especially between Mommy and me. She didn't say a word to any of us after that. She skipped dinner and locked herself inside the bedroom. Not even uncle Manuel nor aunt Beth could coax her out.

I was deeply worried. But I couldn't force her to speak, and even worse, I couldn't force her to understand this entire chaotic situation.

I found myself stretching thin. My problems hadn't lessened—if anything, they'd multiplied. A few days later, I made a decision I never thought I would make. I tendered my resignation.

I knew I couldn't carry such a heavy load and still lead a company. My heart and mind were somewhere else.

"Are you sure about this?" the President of the company asked when I met with him.

"Yes, sir," I said quietly. "I'm really sorry."

"There's no need to apologize, Miguel," he replied sincerely. "I completely understand. I'm sorry for what you've been going through. I hope things turn around for you and your family soon."

From then on, my days blurred together—endless phone calls with people helping me look for Gabie, constant check-ins with Willie about the investigation, all while trying to keep myself together on little to no sleep.

Despite everything, I still went home to check on Mommy. But each time, I was met with silence. She refused to see me. Worse, she'd started drinking again—breaking things in fits of rage. She wouldn't speak to anyone, not even the helpers. She yelled at them if they came too close.

She had completely unraveled.

I no longer knew what to prioritize. Everything felt like it was happening all at once. Uncle Manuel and Uncle Rick were doing what they could, but the damage had been done. Mommy's condition was worsening, day by day, ever since she learned the truth.

One night, Meynard dropped by after work. I had asked him to stay at the company because I didn't want to involve him in my chaos. He had his own life to live.

Still, he found ways to help.

"Brother, maybe you should get some sleep," he said gently.

I rubbed my eyes. "It's hard to sleep, Nard."

He sighed. "You know that can't go on. If Gab hadn't called me, I wouldn't have known you looked like a zombie."

I managed a small, tired smile.

Gab saw me break down one night. She had come home from work and surprised me—she got her first salary and wanted to celebrate with me. But instead of joy, she found me in tears. I hadn't eaten. I was still reeling from what Mommy told me earlier that day—how she pushed me away and told me she didn't need me. Worse, how she disowned me for betraying her.

That shattered me.

Gab saw it all. Since then, she never failed to check on me in the morning before work and again when she came home. I knew she was struggling too—this affected her as well—but she still made time to comfort me.

Meynard used to be my go-to whenever life got hard, but now, it's Gab who stays by my side. Meynard had taken over my former responsibilities at work. I recommended him for Andrew's position after Andrew was promoted to the role I left. Meynard deserved it—he had proven himself as a top-performing team leader in the agency.

I looked at him, my voice breaking. "I don't know what to do anymore, Nard. Mommy's getting worse. I know she didn't mean the things she said, but they still hurt."

I wiped my eyes. "It's just the two of us now... and still, we're divided. She won't even listen to uncle Manuel. She's so angry. She fired Carla just because she hid the wine bottles from the helpers."

I paused, my voice trembling. "She's been destroying everything in Daddy's study. She ripped the family painting off the wall... then smashed it to pieces."

Meynard shook his head, speechless for a moment. Then he gently asked, "Why don't we try talking to Mama?"

"I've thought about it," I replied. "But I'm scared. I'm scared she might hurt herself. Or worse... I just don't want anything bad to happen to her."

He nodded slowly, understanding the weight of what I meant.

We both fell silent, knowing there were no easy answers.