Kinabukasan ay agad akong bumyahe pa-Manila. Kay Icen ako sumabay dahil sa condo rin naman niya ang tuloy ko. I didn't have my own place, hindi naman na kasi ako dito nakatira. I was just visiting. Si Icen naman ay kinailangang kumuha ng permanenteng titirahan because they were all after him now, sa kanila ni Oxygen.

Nakatulog akong agad nang lumapat ang aking katawan si kama at hapon na nang magising ako. Wala si Icen nang lumabas ako ng silid na pinagamit nito sa akin, malamang ay nasa hotel. Nasabi naman na kasi nito kanina na may pinapaasikasong madali sina Daddy at Uncle Kurt sa kanilang dalawa ni Oxygen kaya baka ako lang daw mag-isa ang maghapunan.

Nilibot ko ang aking tingin sa paligid. Kaka-acquire pa lang ni Icen sa lugar na ito, siguro'y wala pang tatlong buwan dahil nang huling umuwi ako ng Pilipinas ay sa hotel pa siya tumutuloy. Uncle Kurt said that he could've lived at one of the presidential suites in the hotel, pero ayaw ni Icen. Hangga't maaari ay gusto nitong magkaroon ng boundary ang trabaho at personal space nito. Understandable naman.

I took in the simplicity of Icen's living space. The condo was modest, a far cry from the lavishness one might expect given our family's status. Pero kahit noon pa namang mga bata pa kami ay hindi rin talaga maluho si Icen kaya hindi na ako nagulat sa istilo ng bahay nito. The furnishings were minimalistic—clean lines, neutral tones, and an overall sense of calm na siyang palagay ko ay tama lang kung buong araw ay patong patong na stress ang kakaharapin niya sa hotel.

What caught my eye were the paintings hanging on the walls. They added a vibrant splash of color to the otherwise muted decor. Napangiti ako dahil hindi lamang iyon simpleng paintings, creation mismo nito. Painting was Icen's talent and passion, a hobby he'd been indulging in for as long as I could remember. Our parents had allowed him to pursue it for a while, but now, with the weight of responsibility on his shoulders, he had less time for his artistic endeavors. Nakatitiyak akong gagawan at gagawan nito ng paraan para kahit paano'y makapagpinta pa rin.

I walked over to the nearest painting. It depicted a serene beach scene, the kind we often visited during family vacations. The brushstrokes were fluid and expressive, capturing the play of light on the water and the gentle sway of the palm trees. It was a place Icen and I both loved, a place that held many fond memories.

Next to it was a portrait of a woman, her features delicately rendered with a soft palette. She looked familiar, and it took me a moment to realize that it was our mother, captured in a moment of quiet contemplation. The painting was filled with emotion, a silent homage to her strength and grace. Right. Minsan na nitong sinabi sa akin na si Mommy ang muse niya, matagal na iyon, mga bata pa kami.

As I moved through the condo, I came across more of Icen's work. There was a vibrant cityscape, bustling with energy and life. The colors were bold and dynamic, a stark contrast to the peaceful beach scene. It was clear that Icen's art was a reflection of his inner world, a way for him to process his thoughts and emotions. Tuwing pinagmamasdan ko ang mga naipinta nito'y hindi ko maiwasang makaramdam ng pagmamalaki. Bakit hindi? Kapatid ko lang naman ang gumuhit ng mga iyon.

I turned away from the paintings and wandered into the kitchen. The counters were clean, and everything was neatly organized. Icen had always been meticulous, a trait that served him well in both his art and his responsibilities at the hotel. I found a note on the fridge, written in his neat handwriting:

"Caice, make yourself at home. There's food in the fridge if you're hungry. I'll be back late, so don't wait up. – Icen"

Lalo akong napangiti. Dalawa lang kaming magkapatid ni Icen at hindi rin naman nagkakalayo ang agwat ng aming edad, but he never failed to make me feel cared for. Icen always made sure to look out for me. Kahit sa mga simpleng ganito ay naipapakita nito iyon.

I opened the fridge and pulled out some leftovers, not feeling particularly hungry but knowing I should eat something.

As I sat down to a simple meal, I couldn't help but think about the paintings again. Hindi rin maiiwasan dahil hanggang sa kusina ay may iilang kwadrado ang nakasabit. They were more than just decorations; they were pieces of Icen's soul, a glimpse into his world.

I was downing a bowl of chickpeas I had reheated when the intercom in Icen's condo buzzed. Startled, I jumped off the stool and headed back to where it was by the door.

Pinindot ko ang buton at mas lumapit. "Hello?"

"Ma'am, may naghahanap po kay Miss Caice Sandejas, numero po ng unit niyo ang ibinigay." Iyon ang agad na sabi ng doorman na nasa kabilang linya.

"I'm Caice," I replied, frowning slightly. "Who's looking for me?"

"Rye DiLaurentis daw ho ang pangalan,"

I blinked twice, thrice, not initially believing it. Shaking my head, I tried to make sense of it all. Rye? Here? Imposible!

Rye was my nine-year-old client in Italy. He was suffering from PTSD after escaping his abusive and narcissistic mother who had left him more battered than cared for. Paanong narito siya?

I pressed the button on the intercom again. "Are you sure? Rye DiLaurentis?"

"Opo, ma'am. Iyon pa ang ibinigay na pangalan nitong bata. Paaakyatin ko po ba?"

Bata.

Damn! Si Rye nga!

"Send him up," I replied, still in a daze.

Tuluyan nang nawala sa aking isipan ang kinakain ko sa counter, binuksan ko na ang pinto at hinintay na lang si Rye na sumungaw sa hallway. In less than five minutes, Rye appeared at the other end of the hallway. He had grown taller for his age but still carried the demeanor of a child. His face was expressionless, a blank mask that spoke volumes about the hardships he had endured. Nang una siyang dinala sa akin ay hindi ko talaga alam kung paano siya tutulungan. Hindi ito nagsasalita o nakikipag-usap sa kahit kanino, iyon ang sabi ng kaniyang tiya na siyang nagdala sa kaniya sa clinic.

"Rye, darling," I said softly, stepping aside to let him in. "Come in."

He nodded, walking past me into the condo. Tahimik lamang niyang iginala ang tingin sa paligid na tila ba inaaral ang lahat, bawat sulok ng lugar. Kahit sa clinic ay ganyan siya tuwing may session kami.

"What brings you here? Who brought you?" Maingat kong tanong. Hindi ko inaasahang paparito siya. Nasabi ko sa kaniya during our last session na baka matagalan bago muli kaming magkita dahil kinakailangan kong bumalik dito sa Pilipinas, ang sabi niya'y ibigay ko lang sa kaniya ang address ng tutuluyan ko at siya na ang bahalang pumunta sa akin kung kakailanganin. Natatawang ginawa ko naman, syempre, sino ba naman ang maniniwalang gagawin niya nga? Rye was a kid, for Christ's sake!

"A driver,"

"A driver?" I repeated, confused.

He shrugged, his expression still blank.

I led him to the couch, motioning for him to sit down. Pakiramdam ko ay wala akong matinong sagot na makukuha sa batang ito kung ipipilit ko pang itanong kung paanong nasa Pilipinas nga siya. Kaya sa halip ay tinanong ko na lang siya kung anong kailangan naming pag-usapan.

Rye sat down, staring at his hands for a moment before speaking. "I saw my mom last Friday," he began, his voice flat and devoid of emotion.

Hindi ako nagsalita, hinayaan ko lang siyang magpatuloy kahit pa ilang sandali niyang piniling huwag umimik. I sat by the edge of the wooden center table, para magkaharap kaming dalawa.

"She showed up at school. She was trying her best to get to me, but the bodyguards my dad hired wouldn't let her near me."

Tumango-tango ako bago marahang tumugon. "That must have been very upsetting for you,"

Rye shrugged again, a small, almost imperceptible movement. "I guess. I didn't really feel anything. They told me not to worry, that she couldn't get close, but she kept screaming my name. She looked... desperate."

"That must have been hard to see," I said, keeping my voice gentle. "Even if you didn't feel it at the time, it's okay to be affected by it now."

Hindi ko kilala ang ina ni Rye, hindi ko pa nakikita. And yet, I already hated her for ruining this child. Her child! Kung noong una ay halos hindi ako kinikibo ni Rye, kalaunan naman ay dahan-dahan niyang naipagkatiwala sa akin ang lahat lahat ng pinagdaanan niya sa kamay ng kaniyang ina. It was heartbreaking to imagine what someone as young as Rye had to go through, sa kamay pa mismo ng kung sino ang siyang dapat na kumakalinga rito.

He looked up at me, his eyes betraying a flicker of emotion before the blank mask slipped back into place. "I thought she was gone for good. Dad promised me she wouldn't come back. But there she was, and she looked different. Not like before. She looked... sick. I wanted to hate her. I knew I did. But at the same time, I hate that I feel for her."

"Rye, it's completely normal to have mixed feelings about your mom, especially after everything that happened." Gusto ko mang hawakan ang kaniyang kamay at panatagin ang kaniyang loob ay hindi ko ginawa. I needed him to open up, iyong ilabas niya ang nararamdaman niya imbes na ipunin at alagaan ang anumang negatibong naroon.

He sighed, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand. "I don't know what I'm supposed to feel. I was scared, but then I was angry. And now, I just feel... empty."

"It's okay to feel all of those things, Rye. Emotions are complicated, and it's normal to feel a lot of different things at once. What's important is that you talk about them, so they don't get bottled up inside."

He looked at me, a hint of vulnerability in his eyes. "I don't know how to talk about it. Every time I try, it just... hurts."

Tumango akong muli. Iyon ang rason kaya nga ako narito, para makinig at umintindi. Ang sabi ng tiyahin niya ay abala masyado sa negosyo ang ama ni Rye, bihirang makausap at maabala. I never got the chance to meet him, palaging ang tiyahin kundi nama'y butler ang kasama niya tuwing ihahatid siya sa clinic during scheduled sessions. Ilang beses ko nang sinabi sa tiyahin niyang nakakausap ko na mahalaga pa rin na nararamdaman ni Rye ang presensya ng kaniyang ama lalo sa mga ganitong panahon. It was never healthy na mas kilala pa ng ibang tao si Rye kaysa kilala niya ito.

"I understand," I said softly. "But you're not alone. I'm here, Rye. I'm always ready to listen."

He nodded slowly, taking a deep breath. "I know. That's why I'm here."

Pinagmasdan ko kung paano niya isa-isang patunugin ang mga daliri ng kaniyang kamay, nasa mga anyo ang pagsubok na huwag magpakawala ng kahit anong emosyon. A child who had suffered abuse might struggle to identify and express emotions appropriately, leading to emotional dysregulation. Iyon ang nangyayari kay Rye. Sa sobrang manipulado at kalkulado ng ina niya ang kada kilos niya ay hindi na niya kayang tukuyin ang sarili niyang damdamin.

"I just want it to stop. I want to stop feeling like this."

"We'll work on that together," I assured him. "It won't happen overnight, but with time and support, you'll start to feel better. The important thing is that you're taking the first step by talking about it."

Rye looked down at his hands again, but this time, there was a small sense of relief in his posture. "Thanks," he said quietly. "I just needed to talk to someone."

"You're always welcome to talk to me," magaan ko siyang nginitian tulad ng siyang kailangan niya. "Anytime you need."

He nodded, a slight smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. For the first time since he arrived, I saw a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

Sandali pa kaming nag-usap ni Rye, may kung ano pa siyang ikinuwento sa akin tungkol sa mga naging araw niya buhat nang huli kaming magkita. Inalok ko rin siyang maghapunan dahil wala rin naman akong kasabay, after that ay kinailangan niya ng umuwi dahil baka hanapin raw siya ng daddy niya. That answered the question I had in mind, ang daddy niya ang kasama niyang lumipad ng Pilipinas.

Hinatid ko si Rye sa ibaba kung saan naroon ang dalawang unipormadong bodyguards at isang driver na naghihintay sa labas ng puting SUV. Gusto kong mapangiwi, I really hate seeing bodyguards. May kung anu-anong ala-ala ang nagsusumiksik sa aking isipan na agad ko ring iwinaksi.

Wala na.

Wala ng lugar iyon sa buhay ko ngayon.

It ended there.

Natapos na.

Kinabukasan ay nagpasama ako kay Icen para bisitahin si Zach. I had barely seen Zach at the funeral, and I really wanted to reach out to him, to see how he was doing after everything that had happened. Icen agreed to drive me to Zach's house, although he mentioned he needed to be at the hotel by lunch.

Ilang beses akong sinulyapan ni Icen habang nagmamaneho bago naglakas loob na nagsalita.

"You know, you might actually help Zach." Itinuon niyang muli ang kaniyang tingin sa daan.

Takang nilingon ko siya. "Help where? What do you mean?"

Lalong sumeryoso ang kaniyang mukha, humigpit rin ang kapit sa steering wheel. "Hindi ko alam ang buong detalye ng nangyari kay Zach, Caice. Pero alam kong hindi naging madali sa kaniya ang kung anumang kinailangan niyang paagdaanan. At ngayon bumalik siya matapos ang ilang buwang pag-aakala natin na wala na, I could sense that Zach was having a hard time. It's like he's there, but not really there. Baka sakaling makatulong sa kaniya ang ekspertong tulad mo."

I shifted in my seat, the concern growing in my chest. See? I didn't know these things. Now I felt selfish. Naalala ko nang minsang maramdaman kong gumunaw ang mundo ko ilang taon na rin ang nakakalipas. It was Zach who held me. It was him who helped me.

"He's been distant," pagpapatuloy niya. "He doesn't talk much, barely interacts with anyone, even with his wife. It's like he's stuck in his own head, unable to escape something. Gustuhin ko mang magtanong kanila Tita Chi dahil baka kung alam natin kung ano talaga ang nangyari, we might be able to help. Kaya lang ay wala ako sa posisyon. Isa pa, hindi ko na gustong makidagdag pa sa lahat ng isipin nila."

I felt a pang of guilt. "I should have reached out sooner. I didn't realize it was that bad."

"It's not your fault," Icen reassured me. "We all deal with grief in different ways. But you, Caice, you might be able to get through to him. Alamin mo kung ano talaga ang nangyari sa kaniya nang mga panahong nawala siya. Hindi mo na kailangan pang ipaalam sa akin kung anuman ang malalaman mo. Ang mahalaga lang ay malaman mo kung paano mo siya tutulungan."

I looked out the window, thinking about Zach and the pain he must be feeling. "I want to help, but I don't know if he'll even want to talk to me. What if I just make things worse?"

Hindi naman lahat ay handang ipakipag-usap ang nararamdaman nila. I didn't tell anyone the kind of pain I had to go throught. I carried it with me, and it scarred me for life. Kaya rin talaga ako nag-pursue ng ganitong career, I wanted to understand and know how to deal with my feelings dahil alam kong hindi ko magagawang ipagkatiwala ang anumang nararamdaman ko sa ibang tao. Trust had become too precious for me that I since started showing people only the side of me I wanted them to see.

"You won't," siguradong sabi niya. "Wala ka naman ibang kailangang gawin kundi ang makinig, Caice."

"Susubukan ko," iyon na lang ang tanging nasabi ko hangga't sa marating na namin ang bahay nila Zach sa isang ekslusibo at heavily-guarded subdivision sa syudad.

"Help him, Caice. Zach needs you."

Hindi na ako sumagot sa sinabi niyang iyon. I got out of the car and watched as Icen drove away. Taking a deep breath, I turned towards Zach's house and walked up to the front gate. Hindi ko pa napipindot ang doorbell ay bumukas na ang double door at iniluwa noon si Zach na may tipid na ngiti sa kaniyang mga labi. I called earlier and told him I would drop by kaya inaasahan na niya ang pagdating ko.

Ngayon ko lang nakita si Zach ng malapitan simula nang makabalik siya, and Icen was right. Isang tingin lang ay ramdam ko na agad ang sinasabi nito. Something was off. He looked different—thinner, more guarded. It was a stark contrast to the carefree and lively Zach I used to know. Mas lalong nabuhay ang pag-aalalang kanina pa namamahay sa aking dibdib.

"Hey," he said, his voice low and cautious. Yumuko siya upang halikan ang aking pisngi ngunit agad ring humiwalay, iginiya niya akong papasok. "Thanks for coming over."

I forced a smile, trying to hide my concern. "Of course, Zach. Wala ako nang makabalik ka, now I needed to see you bago ako bumalik ng Italy. How have you been?"

He shrugged, his gaze flickering away. "Okay, I guess. Just taking things one day at a time."

I nodded, not wanting to push too hard but also desperate to help him. Iniba ko na lang ang usapan. "Nasan si Sasa?"

Nilibot ko ng tingin ang paligid, mukha walang ibang tao sa loob ng bahay kundi kaming dalawa lang.

"Dinala ang mga bata kanila Lance," tahimik niyang sabi. Nabalitaan kong nanganak na ang asawa niya noong nakaraang buwan. Sasa was pregnant when we all thought he died. "Anong gusto mong inumin?"

Sinundan ko siya sa kusina nang iyon ang tunguhin niya, tahimik na nag-oobserba. "Tubig lang,"

Walang kasambahay. Wala akong nakikita.

As Zach disappeared into the kitchen, I couldn't help but notice the subtle shifts in his movements—subtle, yet telling signs of someone who had been through trauma. His steps were measured, almost cautious, as if he were constantly scanning his surroundings for potential threats. His shoulders were tense, his movements rigid, as if he were bracing himself for something that might happen at any moment.

Lalong nakakapag-alala.

Lalong nakakabahala.

I watched him fill a glass with water, and I couldn't shake the feeling that he was on edge, like a coiled spring ready to snap at any moment. Anong nangyari sa'yo, Zach?

"Here you go," he said, handing me the glass of water with a forced smile.

"Thanks," I replied, taking the glass from him. I studied his face closely, searching for any signs of the Zach I used to know, but all I saw was a mask of carefully controlled emotions. "Are you okay, Zach?"

Kalmado lang ang tinig ko. Hindi ko ipinahalatang masyado akong kuryoso o nag-aalala. Baka mas lalo siyang lumayo, mas lalo siyang magtago. Inilipat ko ang aking tingin sa kung saan kasabay ng pag-inom ng tubig na ibinigay niya. Naghihintay ng magiging sagot.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Just tired, I guess." Tunog aral at awtomatiko ang mga salitang iyon nang lumabas sa kaniyang mga labi. Para bang default answer niya iyon sa tuwing matatanong siya ng parehong katanungan.

I wanted to push him further, to get him to open up about what he was going through, but I knew better than to push too hard. Instead, I decided to change the subject again.

"How's Sasa?" I asked, hoping to steer the conversation towards something less tense.

Zach's expression softened slightly at the mention of his wife. "She's doing okay. Still adjusting to being a mother of two. Pareho kaming sinasanay ang sarili, hinahati ang oras sa dalawang nangangailangan ng atensyon."

I nodded, sensing that he was more comfortable talking about Sasa than himself. "That's good to hear. How are the kids?"

He smiled, a genuine spark of warmth in his eyes. "They're doing great. Parehong malusog. Doon pa lang ay panalo na ako."

We fell into a more relaxed conversation, talking about mundane things like the weather and local news. But beneath the surface, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was off—that Zach was hiding something from me and everyone else. And if I didn't know any better, baka pinilit kong basagin siya at alamin lahat ng dinadala niya.

But I knew I had to be patient. Kung gusto ko talagang tulungan si Zach ay kailangan kong hintayin na gustuhin niya rin hingin ang tulong ko.