Seth stood under the warm stream of the shower, the water soothing the tension that had built up over the past few days. His mind, however, was still racing. He smiled to himself, relieved that he had packed everything in a waterproof bag. At least my brain's still working, he muttered, amused by the small victory.

Freshly showered and dressed, he stepped out of the bathroom, neatly folding his soaked clothes into a plastic bag before tucking them into his knapsack. Mr. Gonzales waited by the doorway, holding a small piece of paper with an address scrawled on it.

"Are you heading out now?" Bernardo asked as Seth slung his bag over his shoulder.

"Yes, sir... er... I mean, pastor," Seth replied nervously. "I think it's time I find her," his voice steady but tinged with the weight of anticipation.

Bernardo nodded. "Well, then. You have my blessing."

"Thank you, pastor. I hope to return soon to talk more." Seth offered a sincere smile, and the older man returned it, a glimmer of understanding in his eyes. The pastor shook his hand firmly.

As Seth walked away, Bernardo stood at the door, watching him disappear down the path. He thought of his daughter, Yssa, and for the first time, he understood why she had come home—to run, perhaps, but also to find clarity. And maybe, just maybe, for this vigorous young man Seth.

* * *

The rain had subsided, and the clouds began to part, allowing slivers of sunlight to peek through. Seth felt a strange sense of fortune as the weather shifted in his favor. After a short tricycle ride to the subdivision's gate, he followed Mr. Gonzales' instructions, walking to the small lot where cars were parked. It was a simple plan: hire a car, make his way to Lake Sebu, and hopefully, to Yssa.

Inside a nearby carinderia, Seth bought a bottle of water, sipping briefly before stepping back into the open air. A young man leaned against a faded 1985 Toyota Corolla, watching him with interest.

"Going to the lake, boss?" the man called out, a grin stretching across his face.

Seth glanced at the paper with Jane Atienza's address and nodded cautiously. "I need to find someone first—Jane Atienza. Can you take me to her?"

The man shook his head. "Nah, I just go to the lake. One thousand pesos for the ride. It's beautiful there."

Seth wasn't in the mood for sightseeing. He pulled out three five-hundred-peso bills. "We'll find Jane first. I'll give you more if I decide to go to the lake afterward."

The driver's expression shifted, eyes lighting up at the sight of the money. After a brief conversation with his friends, who were laughing among themselves, the man finally nodded. "Alright, hop in."

The drive was long and winding. Seth stared out of the window as they climbed the narrow, twisting roads, the world outside growing more mountainous and remote. Five hours later, they were nearing their destination, the air growing cooler as they ascended.

The driver suddenly braked in front of a small, patched-up wooden house. "That's the address."

Seth stepped out, legs stiff from the journey. His heart pounded as he approached the house. He couldn't shake the feeling of uncertainty—Is this where Yssa is? He prayed silently that he wasn't too late.

He knocked, but there was no answer. After calling out Yssa's name, an older woman finally appeared at the window, her face lined with age. She said something in a language Seth couldn't understand, her voice quick and sharp.

Frustration welled up. The driver strolled over, clearly amused. "She says a certain Yssabelle Gonzales is at the Lake Palace Hotel, in the middle of the lake? You still want to go?"

Seth nodded, his heart racing. "Yes, let's go." He knew he was close. So close.

They set off again, the rain beginning to fall in heavy drops. As they made their way toward the lake, the clouds darkened, and lightning cracked across the sky, illuminating the turbulent waters below. When they finally reached the Lake Palace Resort, the driver demanded more money, but Seth, tired and fed up, just handed him another five-hundred-peso bill and stormed out of the car.

Inside the resort, Seth found a welcoming desk clerk who confirmed that the Lake Palace Hotel was indeed in the middle of the lake, accessible only by boat. But when he asked if an Yssabelle Gonzales had checked in, the answer shook him.

"There are five rooms occupied out there, sir. And I don't have any Gonzales listed here. Only Reyes, McKinley, Perkins, Ordonio, and Villalva." The clerk was not supposed to tell him those names, but she surprised herself she did.

"Ordonio?"

"Yes, sir, Ordonio," the clerk said, reading from the guest list. "There are two people registered under that name."

Seth's heart sank. It hit him like a blow. He stood frozen, staring at the guest book as his dreams crumbled before him. Yssa had come all this way with Glenn—her husband, perhaps.

For a moment, Seth felt utterly alone. All the miles, the rain, the endless longing—it had brought him here, to this crushing realization.

"Would you like to book a room?" the clerk asked gently, sensing his inner turmoil.

Seth shook his head, blinking away the rising despair. He could leave, go back to Davao, fly to Manila, and forget all of this. But something inside him refused to give up. He couldn't walk away without facing Yssa, without hearing her side. No matter how painful the truth might be, he had come too far to turn back now.

With renewed determination, Seth looked the clerk in the eye. "Put me down for one night, please."

He wasn't running anymore. This time, he was going straight to the heart of it, ready to confront whatever was waiting for him.

* * *

"The hotel is on an island, right?" Seth asked, his voice calm despite the tension building in his chest.

The clerk nodded. "Yes, it's about a fifteen-minute boat ride from the docks."

Seth frowned slightly. "What boat? What docks?"

The clerk smiled, seemingly used to these questions. "Just head out the front door, turn right, and walk down the lane. You'll see a small building with a sign reading 'Lake Palace Diving.' Buy your boat ticket there. The person will direct you to the correct boat."

Seth offered a nod of thanks, turned, and made his way outside. The rain had let up, but the air still felt thick with moisture. He followed the directions down the quiet path toward the diving office, grateful that there were no other tourists in sight. The place still had the charm of a secret place, something untouched by the masses. He liked that.

Inside the small office, Seth handed over his room voucher. The man behind the counter issued a boat ticket and told him to show it to the pilot of the "Prinsesa" for the ride over to the hotel.

"Thank you," Seth said with a brief smile, taking the ticket before heading down to the docks. There were about ten small boats docked, none of them big enough to hold more than five passengers. The rain had paused again, leaving the sky heavy but clear for the moment. Seth felt a small surge of luck.

A worker at the docks waved him over. "You headed for the Lake Palace?" the man asked.

Seth nodded, handing over his ticket. The worker led him to the Prinsesa, where he was the only passenger. The man, who also seemed to be the pilot, gestured for Seth to find a seat. With a quick toss of his head, the pilot started the engine, the roar filling the air, making conversation impossible. Seth gave a thumbs-up to show he was ready, though his mind was far from at ease.

The boat chugged through the vast mountain lake, the waters choppy under the brewing storm. Seth looked up. The sky was thick with clouds, gray and threatening, the kind that promised lightning and thunder soon. And sure enough, in the distance, flashes of lightning split the horizon, followed by the rumble of thunder that made the air feel even heavier.

A few minutes later, the pilot tapped Seth on the knee and pointed ahead. "Lake Palace!" he shouted over the noise, gesturing toward a structure in the middle of the lake.

Seth's breath caught in his throat. His pulse quickened, heart thudding in his chest. As the boat bumped across the water, each wave seemed to mirror the turmoil in his heart. Yssa. Yssabelle Gonzales—or was it Yssabelle Ordonio now? What would he find when he reached the other side?

When they finally docked, the pilot skillfully swung the boat to the jetty, and Seth jumped off. A young boy of about fourteen stood waiting, offering to carry his knapsack, but Seth shook his head. He wasn't ready to let go of it just yet.

The boy led him up the wide stone steps that climbed toward the hotel, each step taking them higher above the lake. Seth's legs felt heavy as they ascended, the weight of anticipation pressing down on him with every step. Halfway up, he paused, resting on a wooden bench beside the path. He stared at the clouds, thinking of Yssa, and the moment that lay just ahead.

After a few moments, Seth stood again, nodding to the boy, and they continued up the steps. When they reached the top, Seth followed him into the hotel lobby. It was a quiet, understated space, but what caught Seth's eye was a couple sitting on a sofa, sipping tea. For a brief, heart-stopping moment, he thought it was Yssa and Glenn. His pulse spiked before he realized it wasn't them.

The hotel receptionist approached with a key. "Room 07," he said, handing it over. Room 7? If he's not mistaken, it was across the Ordonio tenants, according to a guest list tacked on a corkboard bulletin. "Dinner is at seven. No need for formal wear." The receptionist paused, then added, "Can I get you something to drink?"

"Two San Miguel beers, please," Seth replied, his voice steady though his mind was racing.

He followed the boy up one flight of stairs, walking slowly along a corridor. Room numbers passed by: 01, 02, 03, 04... He stopped, his gaze locking on the door labeled "04." There they are, he thought, and stared at it for a long moment, his heart pounding in his chest, until the boy tugged his attention.

Inside his own room, Seth took a breath. It was spacious, with a king-sized bed and furniture made of worn narra wood. The rain started again, tapping against the windows. He moved to close them before unpacking his things. Moments later, the boy returned with the beers, and Seth handed him the exact amount, along with a small tip.

Alone again, Seth stood by the fogged-up window, wiping it clear with his hand as he gazed out at the lake. Yssa was so close—just one room away. He didn't know if he had the strength to face her, but he knew he had no choice. Whatever he will discover, he had to accept it. He needed to see her, to tell her, one last time, how much he loved her. That, at least, would make everything worthwhile.

He showered, dressed in a clean white shirt and jeans, and slipped on sandals. He drank his beer slowly, trying to prepare himself for what was to come. There was no point in waiting any longer. With a deep breath, he walked outside to the hotel's main veranda, which was empty in the rain-soaked afternoon.

Seth leaned against the railing, watching the lake below, the bottle of beer cool in his hand. He felt like a knight on the verge of battle, his armor not made of steel, but of hope and determination.

Behind him, he heard a door creak open. Then, voices—one of them unmistakable. Yssa.

His pulse quickened, adrenaline rushing through his veins. He turned slowly and saw a woman, maybe in her forties, emerge from the doorway.

A split second and then there she was—Yssabelle Gonzales came out of the same doorway and looked toward the stairs. "Let's have a cup of tea in the lobby, Ninang," she said. She was beautiful, more than he remembered, her long black hair pulled back in a ponytail, her white sleeveless dress flowing in soft waves down to her straw-colored sandals.

She then looked behind her toward the veranda, hazel eyes reflecting the light, and she saw a man standing by himself, looking at her.

The other woman began to speak but saw Yssa's face and followed her eyes. They both stared for a moment and then the other woman gazed upon Yssa once more.

Yssa's eyes locked onto Seth, and for a moment, time seemed to stop. He waited for a man named Glenn Ordonio to come out and put his arm around Yssa, but no one came.

She walked toward him, her steps sure, her gaze never wavering. And when she reached him, she wrapped her arms around his waist, pressing her head to his chest. Seth touched her hair, feeling the warmth of her body against him.

Yssa lifted her face, kissed his cheek softly, and then turned to the woman beside her. "Ninang, this is Seth Santiago, the man I've been telling you about." Her voice was calm and steady, as she introduced him. "Seth, this is my godmother, Jane Villalva."