Somewhere In Between (Between Shadows #1)

Simula

Simula.

If there's one thing I learned from today, it's that life doesn't ask permission before it changes.

It just... does.

Minsan parang bigla ka na lang nagigising sa araw na hindi mo inaasahan. Kagaya ngayon.

I stare out the window of the old pickup truck as we drive through what feels like endless patches of rice fields and narrow roads.

The province air is colder than Manila's usual sticky humidity. Mas presko, mas malinis, mas may amoy ng lupa. And for some reason, mas nakaka-pressure. Parang ang daming expectations sa hangin. Parang kailangan ko mag-adjust agad kahit hindi pa ako ready.

"Anak, malapit na tayo," Mama says, voice gentle but tired. She's been driving for hours.

I nod, eyes focused on the landscape passing me by. Wala akong masabi. Partly because I don't trust my voice not to crack if I talk too much, and partly because I don't know how to explain this feeling — parang may something na kumikirot sa dibdib ko, mixed with curiosity and irritation.

Everything is quieter here.

Too quiet.

Sa Manila kasi, kahit gabi, rinig mo pa rin ang jeep, ang tricycle, ang sigaw ng kapitbahay na nanonood ng basketball. Dito? The silence is so full it feels loud.

The truck makes a turn, and I finally see it. The old Suarez house. The wood is darkened by time, the balcony railing uneven, and the capiz windows reflecting the cloudy afternoon light. It looks untouched. Frozen in the exact year Mom left it.

"This is it, V," she whispers, almost like she's speaking to herself. "Home."

Home.

The word stings a little, kasi hindi naman ito ang tahanan ko.

Pero paano pa ba?

We already moved. We're already here.

When the engine stops, I take a long breath, steadying myself before stepping out.

Pagbukas ko ng pinto, sinalubong ako agad ng amoy ng mga puno, lupa, at bahagyang usok mula sa lutuin ng kapitbahay. It's overwhelming. Like a slap of reality.

"This... is bigger than I remember," Mama says quietly, looking up at the house with unreadable eyes.

I don't say anything. I can feel she's holding something back. Fear, maybe? Nostalgia? Regret?

But right now, I'm too busy feeling swallowed by the enormity of this place.

This is really happening. Nandito na talaga kami.

Welcome to your new life, Eloise.

The first thing I notice when we step inside is the smell. Old wood, dust, and something like dried leaves. Not musty, but definitely old. Parang lumang libro na naiwan sa shelf nang sobrang tagal.

Mama opens windows one by one, letting air circulate. The breeze slips into the house and makes the curtains float, and for a moment, I feel like the house is breathing again after years of sleep.

"Anak, pakikuha nga 'yong maliit na box sa truck," Mama calls out.

"Okay." I drag my feet outside, retrieve the box, and take another look around. Everything feels foreign. Every sound, every movement of the air, every creak of the wood.

Pagbalik ko sa loob, Mama's smiling a little.
"You'll get used to it," she says, almost like she can read my mind.

"Hopefully." My voice is small.