"He has to be."
Lexie's voice was low but certain. She didn't blink as she stared at the closed ER doors, as if sheer willpower could keep Ren alive.
Samantha nodded, clutching her knees to her chest in the cold waiting room chair. The hospital's fluorescent lights were too white, too sterile. They made everything feel artificial—like reality was still catching up to them.
Then Lexie spoke again, her tone casual… too casual.
"Hey, Sam?"
"Yeah?" Samantha mumbled, her voice scratchy.
Lexie tilted her head. "When I left the warehouse… I did a quick sweep. Saw two extra guys on the ground. One unconscious, the other sobbing into a pipe. Faces busted. Ribs cracked."
Samantha froze.
"I counted fifteen when I was doing my thing," Lexie continued, tapping her temple. "But there were seventeen in total when I left. Which is weird..."
Samantha didn't reply.
Lexie turned toward her, one brow raised.
"Did you… beat up two of them before I got there?"
Samantha blinked. "What? Uh—no! I mean, yes. I mean—uhh... kind of."
Lexie sat beside her, watching her closely. "Sam. When I saw you last, you could barely carry your own backpack without wheezing."
Samantha winced. "I trained. In secret."
Lexie narrowed her eyes.
"In secret," she repeated, voice flat.
Samantha forced a smile that was definitely too wide. "Yup. You know... calisthenics. YouTube tutorials. Push-ups."
"Push-ups," Lexie echoed, nodding slowly. "And let me guess, you secretly beat two guys half to death with... emotional damage?"
"I had a metal pipe."
"Ah. Right."
Silence.
Samantha looked anywhere but at Lexie's face.
Then she cleared her throat. "Hey, um… Ate Lexie. Earlier… when you were doing your thing…" She hesitated. "Did you… did you kill them?"
Lexie didn't answer right away.
Then, slowly, she leaned back against the hospital wall, eyes distant.
"No."
Samantha exhaled in relief.
"I wish I did," Lexie added with a sadistic little smile curling at the corners of her lips. "But no. I've done worse, though."
Samantha stared at her.
Lexie gave her a look that was both unapologetic and terrifyingly calm.
Samantha swallowed hard. "Right. Cool. Totally normal."
Then Lexie's expression shifted. Thoughtful. Curious.
"Oh. By the way," she asked, casual as if discussing homework. "Did you tell your parents?"
Samantha blinked.
"…Tell them what?"
Lexie tilted her head, amused. "You know. The part where you took your injured brother to a hospital after getting nearly kidnapped and assaulted by a group of deranged classmates?"
Samantha's eyes went wide.
Her breath caught in her throat.
"Oh… fuck."
Lexie raised a brow.
Samantha sprang up from the chair so fast it tipped and clattered against the floor. A nurse glanced over in concern, but Samantha ignored it, frantically pulling her phone from her pocket.
"Ate Lexie, what time is it?"
Lexie checked her blood-smeared watch.
"Five."
"FIVE?!" Samantha shrieked. "I was supposed to be home by four-thirty! Mom's gonna KILL me!"
Lexie looked entirely unbothered. "You've got a solid excuse."
"I forgot to text them! They're gonna think I got hit by a bus or kidnapped or—oh my god—what if they called the police already?!"
She fumbled to unlock her phone, hands trembling as she tapped her mother's contact.
Lexie watched her pace like a squirrel on espresso. "If you collapse from a panic attack right now, it'll be really ironic after the day you've had."
"Not helping!" Samantha hissed, phone to her ear.
It rang once.
Twice.
Click.
"Samantha?!" her mother's voice exploded from the speaker. "Where the hell are you?! Your brother isn't answering either! Are you both okay? Did something happen?!"
Samantha winced, phone pulled half an inch from her ear. "Mom—I'm okay! We're both okay! Ren's at the hospital but he's stable!"
"HOSPITAL?!"
Lexie rubbed her temples, already feeling the headache coming on.
Samantha scrambled to explain. "It's—It's complicated! Some guys jumped us after school. Ren's injuries weren't too bad at first but his asthma got worse—he couldn't breathe—I drove him to the hospital!"
"You drove?!"
"With Lexie's car! Lexie was there too! She helped!" Samantha shot her a pleading look.
Lexie gave a lazy wave. "Hi, Tita."
Samantha continued, talking faster than her thoughts. "I swear we're okay now! The doctors are taking care of him and I promise I'm not hurt. Just—just a little shaken."
A pause on the other end.
Then came the sound of her father's voice in the background. Something urgent. Footsteps. Keys jingling.
Her mother's voice returned.
"We're coming. Right now. Text me the hospital name. You stay where you are. Do not move. Do not let anyone near you. Do you understand?"
"Yes, Mom. I promise."
Her mother's voice cracked.
"Lexie… thank you. Thank you for saving them—especially Samantha."
Samantha's lips parted, stunned. For a moment, she couldn't breathe—not because of panic, but because of the sheer weight of those words.
"I—I wasn't the one who—" she began to protest, her voice small.
"You're frail. You're sick. I don't know how you got them out of there, but thank God you're okay." Her mother's voice trembled. "You could've died, Sam. We thought we thought you collapsed somewhere again and couldn't reach your phone."
Samantha closed her eyes, guilt settling like lead in her chest.
"I'm sorry," she whispered.
"Just hold on. We're coming."
The call ended.
She let the phone fall into her lap and finally sat back down, her whole body sagging into the chair like her bones had just given up.
Lexie, arms folded, leaned against the wall beside her.
"That went better than I expected," she said.
Samantha shot her a glare. "You say that like you don't regularly forget to inform people you've nearly committed war crimes."
Lexie smirked. "I prefer the term justice with flair."
Samantha groaned and dropped her head into her hands.
A beat passed. Then two.
The hospital lights buzzed softly overhead. Somewhere beyond the ER doors, machines beeped steadily signs of life. Signs of Ren.
"Do you think…" Samantha started, voice barely above a breath. "They'll be okay? Mom and Dad, I mean."
Lexie didn't answer right away. When she did, her voice was low. Even.
"They're your parents, Sam," Lexie said softly, her voice quieter now, less sharp. "They'll panic. They'll cry. But they'll be grateful."
She looked over, eyes steady. "You didn't just save Ren."
A pause.
"You made it out too."
Samantha didn't answer right away.
She looked down at her own hands—still trembling faintly, still dusted with dried blood from gripping Ren, from lifting his barely-breathing body into a car she wasn't supposed to be able to drive.
Her fingers didn't feel like hers anymore. They felt… real. Not paper-thin or porcelain-fragile. Not a symptom. Not a condition.
Just hands.
Her hands.
The kind that could hold on. That could pull someone back from the edge.
"…I don't feel like glass," she murmured, the words escaping before she realized she'd spoken.
Lexie glanced sideways, brow slightly raised.
"What?"
Samantha smiled faintly. It didn't reach her eyes, but it was there.
"I've been called fragile my whole life. Like one sneeze could put me in the ICU. And maybe it was true, back then. But tonight…"
She flexed her fingers once, slowly. Then again.
"…I broke two guys with a pipe and drove my brother to a hospital through downtown traffic while praying he wouldn't die on me."
Lexie blinked, then let out a soft huff of amusement. "Not bad for someone who used to pass out walking to the kitchen."
Samantha turned to her.
"Promise me something, Ate."
Lexie raised a brow. "What?"
"If I ever start acting like the old me again—meek, scared, second-guessing everything… slap me."
Lexie smirked. "Gladly."
Then her tone softened. "But honestly? I don't think that girl's coming back."
A beat passed between them.
Then Samantha whispered, "Me neither."
Just then, her phone buzzed.
A text.
[System Alert: New Main Mission Unlocked.]
Her blood ran cold.
Lexie glanced at her. "What is it?"
Samantha stared at the screen, her smile fading.
She didn't answer.
Instead, she whispered under her breath, voice barely audible
"…This isn't over."
To be continued
Hello, dear readers!
As you've progressed through Chapters 1 to 16, you may have encountered terms like Ate, Kuya, Tita, and Tito. These are more than just familial titles; they are integral to Filipino culture, reflecting deep-rooted values of respect, kinship, and community.
Ate (pronounced "AH-teh") and Kuya (pronounced "KOO-yah") are traditional Filipino honorifics used to address older sisters and brothers, respectively. However, their usage extends beyond immediate family. In Filipino society, it's customary to use these terms for older cousins, friends, colleagues, or even strangers who are slightly older, as a sign of respect and camaraderie. This practice underscores the importance Filipinos place on age hierarchy and social harmony. For instance, addressing someone as Kuya or Ate in a workplace or community setting fosters a sense of familial bond and mutual respect, even in the absence of blood relations.
Moving on to Tita (pronounced "TEE-tah") and Tito (pronounced "TEE-toh"), these terms translate to "aunt" and "uncle" but are employed more broadly in Filipino culture. They are often used to refer to one's parents' close friends, neighbors, or any adult figures who are of the same generation as one's parents. This practice reflects the Filipino value of extending familial respect beyond the nuclear family, recognizing the roles that various adults play in a child's upbringing and community life. For example, it's common for children to call their friends' parents Tita or Tito, acknowledging their authority and nurturing roles.
Additionally, these honorifics are often combined with the individual's first name, such as Ate Maria or Tito Juan, to personalize the address while maintaining respect. This blend of familiarity and formality is a hallmark of Filipino interpersonal interactions.
Understanding these terms provides insight into the Filipino emphasis on respect, family, and community interconnectedness. They serve as linguistic expressions of the societal values that prioritize harmonious relationships and collective well-being.