C49: Evangeline

"Mom, are you excited to return to the Philippines? We're getting close," looking at my mother who had her eyes closed for a couple of months used to break my heart, but seeing her now with a warm smile written on her face warms up my cold, broken heart.

A broken heart that hopes to be whole once again.

"Yes, how close are we? I can't wait to see your dad. It's been six months since we last saw him." She replied. She may not be that expressive, but I sense the feeling of her longing to see him, laugh with him, spend each morning seeing his face first when she opens her eyes from sleep, and the warm feeling of his heartbeat whenever she hugs him.

Tears suddenly fell from my eyes as I reflect, my chest tightening, making it hard to breathe.

"Why are you crying?" she asked, her eyes filled with worry.

"Oh," I held my eyes with my fingers and wiped them as I see the water on my fingers. "It's nothing. Perhaps it's because I miss him too. I'm sorry for being dramatic, but let's cheer up because I already sold the house and my car. The only left is my permits for my pets since we're taking them with us. I'll also need the health certificate of my pets. Don't you think it's cute, that we're going to have three pets soon? My Maine Coon might be happy to have some playmates. I'll claim both of those today, and I already booked our flight for next week. So be more patient with me."

"Evangeline, my daughter, thank you for everything," I raised an eyebrow as I hear her words, clueless on what it is for.

"What for?"

"Because you took care of me when I was in a coma, took care of the business, and let me see your dad once again."

"I'm the one who should be thanking you because you and dad protected me from uncle. If you didn't bring me here, my name is probably one of those tombstones in the cemetery. It's good that uncle didn't track me here. He's still after me. When I go back to our home country, he might do the same thing just like how it went the last time I was there. I gathered some evidence about him that can lead him to jail, but if I'll let that information out and file a lawsuit, my friend would get caught up as well. That's the possible case. That's why going back to face all of those bothers me. It's a big decision to make."

"We're going to pray for that, then. If it's possible for your friend not to get involved –"

"No," I retorted, as I looked down. "I don't think there's the slightest chance for him not to get involved. He committed too many crimes for him to be declared innocent. I'm going to talk to him when we head back. He's prepared for anything anyways. After all, it's nothing personal.

If I'll be asked, I don't want to. But staying silent would enable uncle to do more crimes in secret. He was after me, therefore I can still be in danger as well once he finds out that I'm there. By this time, he's already aware that I know that he's the one who plotted Giovanni's death. It's his current reason why he wants me out of his sight. It's been half a year and yet, up to this point I haven't made my decision."

"Who are you willing to save? Your friend or yourself?"

I grit my teeth as I heard her question – the hardest question that keeps me from having a sound sleep each night.

***

I sat on a seat in the departure area with my passport between my hands and my plane ticket inserted in it. In a couple of hours, or perhaps a day or two, I'm going to see him once again. It's still a big question to me why it takes forever for Victor to respond to my emails. For one, we don't often talk – the last email that I received from him was when he explained himself. It took him two weeks to reply, and I do understand why. He no longer had the guts to face the person that he hurt the most.

Victor … leaving the country felt like I ran away from you. Now it's time to fix what was left hanging. Everyone's fates are in my hands, and yet …

"Evangeline," mom said, and I snapped out of my thoughts as I hear her call me by my name.

"Yes?"

"You seem to be having deep thoughts. I've been calling your name for the past minute. Your pets are already taken by the staff, right? I also heard that we should get to the plane as well. It's time to leave."

"Right, of course. We're … going to arrive there safely, right?"

"That's a strange question. Where's your faith? You're not in your sense of self, are you? I can see that you're pre-occupied. What's bothering you? We're going to have an 18-hour flight. We're not even there yet but you already look tired. Didn't you get enough sleep?"

"I did. But earlier today, I emailed him. Telling him that we should meet when I arrive. I asked if he's available, and of course, there's no answer yet. It's been months, and yet I haven't made up my mind. Should I file a lawsuit or not?"

My mother's facial expression softened, and with her eyes, she showed how she feels bad about what's bothering me.

"You didn't answer my question last time – Who are you willing to save? Your friend or yourself? Filing a lawsuit will save you from your uncle, but will cause your friend to be imprisoned as well. If you'll keep silent, your life would be at risk, and your uncle – even your friend, will never pay for what they've done in the past. You said your friend wants to change, but he can never deny his past. You had enough time to think about all these things, and it's time for you to make a decision."

Is there any way to save both?