Chapter 21

Dr. Ramos sat quietly in her office, the walls around her filled with shelves of books and soft lighting. On the desk before her were printed reports, notes, observation files, and a thick brown folder labeled: Navarro, Gesly D.

It had been a month.

Samuel Cruz, the behavioral analyst hired by the Dela Vuega family, had submitted weekly field notes. At first, they were mild.

Week 1: Appears socially active, has established dominance within his peer group. Charismatic. Slight aggression detected but well-masked.

Week 2: Conflict reported in school, vague accountability. Knuckle bruises noted. Quick temper when questioned. Still maintains charm. Still likable.

Week 3: Deliberate avoidance of authority figures unless necessary. Has begun tracking schedules of students who clashed with him. Strategic awareness rising.

Week 4: Exerts control through intimidation. Induces fear through reputation rather than physical harm. Observed smiling after confrontational incident.

Samuel's summary report was clipped neatly at the back:

Subject appears calm, controlled, and calculated. There are indications of emotional detachment, lack of remorse, and an observable hunger for dominance. I believe we're witnessing behavioral symptoms not of delinquency—but something clinical.

Dr. Ramos read it all twice. Then she opened her laptop and began typing.

DIAGNOSIS MEMO

Subject: Gesly Dela Vuega Navarro

Age: 16

Preliminary Behavioral Notes:

Elevated sense of control and dominance.

Manipulative tendencies.

Displays signs of masked emotional detachment.

High self-awareness without genuine empathy.

Difficulty processing consequence unless linked to control or personal outcome.

Suggested Clinical Consideration: Conduct further assessment under Functional Behavioral Analysis (FBA), with emphasis on:

Antisocial behavioral traits.

Emerging Psychopathic tendencies in adolescent stage.

Test for Conduct Disorder with High Functioning Profile.

Subject appears cooperative only when it serves a personal or familial gain.

It is strongly recommended to continue observation without revealing the diagnosis or the ongoing assessment. Subject shows signs of psychological mirroring and may alter behavior for performance if confronted directly.

Dr. Ramos closed her laptop slowly. Then she picked up her phone.

One ring. Two.

"Hello?" Andi's voice on the other end, bright and casual.

"Miss Navarro," Dr. Ramos said gently. "We need to meet. Privately."

Andi paused. "Did something happen?"

Dr. Ramos looked out the window, the Manila skyline casting shadows on her floor.

"Not yet," she said softly. "But I believe we may be standing on the edge of something... dangerous."

Andi didn't want to believe it.

When Dr. Ramos first said the word "dangerous," it sounded like a stretch. Gesly was intense—yes. Moody, secretive, prone to sarcasm and long stares. But dangerous? He was still her baby brother. He still sulked when there was no Nutella in the pantry. Still stole fries from Bella's plate. Still grinned when she gave him extra allowance, like the world was good again.

But the report on her table now made her stomach churn.

She read it again.

CONFIDENTIAL

Field Surveillance: Week 6

Subject: Gesly Dela Vuega Navarro

Confirmed interactions with known juvenile gang clusters linked to Metro Syndicate nodes in Quezon City. Subject seen in gatherings that include exchange of goods—believed to be contraband. Language in text threads (attached) suggest initiation-level involvement. Surveillance suggests he is not merely a participant, but a rising coordinator within a sub-cell.

Authorities unaware. Syndicate uses minors to remain undetected.

Subject's emotional response remains controlled. Demonstrates detachment from violence. Uses manipulation to maintain position. Uses fear, loyalty, and calculated risk to manage his peer group.

Andi dropped the paper. She couldn't breathe.

She looked across the dining table—Bella humming as she colored a workbook. Gesly's chair was empty. He said he had group work. Again.

But group work didn't explain the bruises. Didn't explain the reports. The cash. The burner phone they found hidden in the back of his closet.

She stood. Grabbed her keys.

An hour later, she arrived at Lolo Dela Vuega's estate, her voice tight with fury.

"You knew."

Her grandfather didn't flinch. He merely sipped his tea and motioned for her to sit.

"I suspected," he said. "Now we have confirmation."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Her voice cracked. "Why did I find out through a report and not from you?"

"Because if you knew earlier," he said slowly, "you would've tried to stop it with love."

She clenched her fists. "And what's wrong with that?"

"Gesly needs more than love, hija. He needs containment. Control. Calculation."

Andi's breathing was ragged. She had fought so hard to give her siblings freedom, peace, normalcy. And now her brother was involved in a syndicate?

Lolo slid a folder toward her.

"This is bigger than school fights, Andrea. This is about networks. Real ones. And if we don't move carefully, we don't just lose Gesly…"

He met her eyes.

"We could lose you too."

That night, Andi sat on the edge of her bed, her hands trembling.

She looked at the photo on her desk—an old polaroid of the three of them: her, Bella, and Gesly in muddy slippers, smiling like fools after catching frogs in the rice field behind their old house.

Where did that boy go?

And worse…

Was he ever really there?

- ; -

One phone call changed everything.

She didn't expect it. But she wasn't surprised either.

Samuel called. He said he had sent a file. Confidential. Enough to shake any sister who still cared.

When Andi opened her laptop, the first thing that appeared wasn't a family photo. It wasn't a graduation picture.

It was Gesly's face—caught in a grainy cellphone video, filmed at night. The surroundings were grimy, graffiti in the background, and laughter in the audio—not cheerful, but cruel.

Gesly sat on a black motorcycle, surrounded by four others. All of them wore face masks.

But him? He wore nothing. No mask. No fear. He was holding a bag—and it was clear it wasn't theirs.

Then another clip played: he was gripping a street kid by the collar, demanding "payment" for "protection."

It looked like a scene from a movie.

But it wasn't.

This was real.

Andi stared blankly at the screen. But there was no shaking in her hands. No tears.

Only a kind of silence—heavier than any scream.

Gesly came home that night carrying his helmet, smelling of smoke, sweat, and dust. Still smiling.

"Yo, Ate. You're still up?" He asked casually.

She nodded. Closed her laptop. Said nothing. Didn't ask anything.

"You okay?" He added while shoving stuff into his bag. A little blood dripped onto the bed. Just a scratch, if you asked him. But she didn't bother.

She didn't ask what time he'd be home.

Or where he came from.

Or why he was bruised.

She didn't need to.

And if Gesly was expecting a lecture, he got none.

Andi just stood up, walked past him, and said, "There's food in the dining room. Heat it yourself."

No drama. No shouting. No confrontation.

Because sometimes, the most painful acceptance is the one that doesn't ask questions anymore.

Before heading up to her room, she glanced at her brother. He was watching her—maybe waiting for a "Are you mad?" or "Aren't you going to say something?"

But nothing came.

In this world, Andi had already grown used to the cruelty of truth.

And if this is where Gesly feels thrill—if this is where he finds control, something "real," something that makes him feel alive—fine.

Let him have it.

Let him burn.

Because sometimes, no matter how much you love someone, you can't save them if they don't want to be saved.

And in their world now, silence is the most expensive thing you can give.

And in Andi's case?

She paid in full.

Silently.

With no refund.