Chapter 3 : The Hour Between

The flame went out.

For one second, akala ko pati mundo, sumabay sa pagkawala niya.

Biglang nilamon ng dilim ang kalsada sa labas ng Veloria Memorial Hall. Hindi siya iyong normal na dilim kapag pumutok ang streetlight or natakpan ng ulap ang buwan. Iba ito.

Parang buhay.

Napaatras ako nang tumama ang balikat ko sa bakal na gate.

“Ow—”

Nahulog ang phone ko sa semento.

The man in the white barong didn’t even flinch. Nakatayo lang siya sa ilalim ng patay na streetlight, hawak sa dalawang maputlang daliri ang kandilang sinindihan ko para kay Caelan.

“You may call me Death,” he said.

I stared at him.

Then I laughed.

Hindi dahil funny. God, no. Wala namang funny sa isang creepy stranger na biglang susulpot after a funeral and introduce himself as Death. Pero siguro mas pinili ng utak ko ang tumawa kaysa sumigaw, umiyak, o himatayin sa sidewalk like some dramatic extra sa horror movie.

“Okay,” sabi ko, nanginginig ang boses. “Sure. Death. Nice. Very normal.”

Hindi nagbago ang expression niya.

Mas nakakakilabot iyon.

Yumuko ako para kunin ang phone ko, pero the moment my fingers touched the screen, natigilan ako.

8:47 PM.

Hindi gumagalaw ang oras.

Hindi nagbi-blink ang colon. Hindi bumababa ang notifications. Kahit iyong maliit na patak ng ulan sa screen ko, nakatigil. Perfectly round. Parang may nag-pause sa buong gabi.

Pagtingala ko, halos tumigil ang paghinga ko.

May motor sa gitna ng kalsada, frozen ang headlight sa dilim. Iyong rider, nakabitin pa ang isang paa bago sumayad sa lupa. Sa kabilang sidewalk, may babaeng hawak ang payong niya, kalahati pa lang nabubuksan.

Even the rain stopped.

Literal na nakabitin ang mga patak sa hangin.

“What did you do?” I whispered.

Death glanced around like this was the most ordinary thing in the world. “I borrowed a little time.”

“A little time?”

“Less than a minute, technically.”

Napakapit ako sa gate. “Nanaginip ako.”

“That would be easier.”

“Nahulog ako. Natamaan ulo ko.”

“You didn’t.”

“Then I’m having a breakdown.”

“Possible,” sabi niya. “But that’s not why I’m here.”

Gusto kong tumakbo.

As in, takbo without looking back.

Pero saan ako pupunta kung pati gabi, huminto?

Death looked at the candle. Itim na ang wick, pero may manipis na usok pa ring umaakyat mula roon. “You wrote something for Caelan Mateo Vasquez.”

Bumagsak ang sikmura ko.

Thank you for the blue pen. I’m sorry I never gave you more than silence.

Narinig ko ulit sa isip ko ang exact words na sinulat ko.

“How do you know that?”

“I hear things near candles.”

“That’s creepy.”

“Yes.”

“At least deny it.”

“I don’t lie just to comfort people.”

Lumunok ako.

Doon ako mas natakot sa kanya.

Hindi dahil sa dilim. Hindi dahil sa frozen na ulan. Hindi rin dahil sa mata niyang parang walang dulo.

Natakot ako kasi magsalita siya na parang lahat ng sinasabi niya, fact lang. Walang effort. Walang drama. No need to convince me.

Death tilted his head. “Did you mean it?”

“What?”

“What you wrote.”

Niyakap ko ang sarili ko. Basa na ang blouse ko sa mist, at unti-unting gumagapang ang lamig sa balat ko. “Hindi ko alam.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“Iyon lang ang meron ako.”

His gaze stayed on me.

I hated it.

Parang kitang-kita niya lahat. Lahat ng excuses ko. Lahat ng guilt. Lahat ng parts na pilit kong tinatago kahit sa sarili ko.

“I barely knew him,” sabi ko.

“I know.”

“Then bakit ako?”

“Because barely is not the same as never.”

Napatikom ang bibig ko.

Death stepped aside and gestured toward the entrance of the memorial hall.

Sarado ang glass doors. Pero sa loob, kumukurap-kurap ang ilaw ng lobby. Pale. Yellow. Wrong.

“No,” sabi ko agad.

“I haven’t asked anything yet.”

“I’m still saying no.”

For the first time, parang may konting amusement sa mukha niya. “Ang bilis mong tumanggi sa bagay na hindi mo pa naiintindihan.”

“Because I’m not stupid.”

“No,” sabi niya. “You’re scared.”

Nakakainis, kasi tama siya.

Biglang nagliyab ulit ang kandila sa kamay niya.

Pero hindi yellow ang apoy.

White.

Malinis. Tahimik. Parang hindi dapat totoo.

The moment na lumitaw ang apoy, bumukas mag-isa ang glass doors ng Veloria Memorial Hall.

Hindi ako gumalaw.

Death waited.

Tiningnan ko ang frozen street, ang ulan na nakabitin sa hangin, ang silent phone ko, at ang lalaking imposible pero nandito sa harap ko.

“If I go inside,” tanong ko, halos hindi lumalabas ang boses, “am I going to die?”

“Not tonight.”

“That’s not comforting.”

“It wasn’t meant to be.”

I wanted to be brave.

Pero minsan pala, bravery didn’t feel like courage. Minsan, it just felt like takot na wala nang ibang mapuntahan.

So I followed him.

Pagpasok namin sa lobby, iba na ang itsura nito.

Wala na ang flowers. Wala na ang chairs. Wala na ang framed photos, guest book, coffee table, at lahat ng bagay na kanina ay nagpamukhang lugar ang memorial hall para sa mga buhay na nagluluksa.

Candles lang ang natira.

Hundreds of them.

Nasa floor. Nasa walls. Nasa reception desk. Nasa hallway papuntang Viewing Room 3. May iba na maliwanag pa. May iba na nanginginig na lang ang apoy. May iba na halos ubos na, tunaw ang wax sa ilalim.

Sa ilalim ng bawat kandila, may pangalan.

Names I didn’t know.

Old names. New names. Names written neatly. Names scratched like warnings.

Then nakita ko ang isa malapit sa paa ko.

Caelan Mateo Vasquez

Maikli na ang kandila.

Sobrang ikli.

Nabara ang hininga ko.

Death stopped beside it.

“This is his?” tanong ko, kahit alam ko na.

“Yes.”

Nanginginig ang apoy.

It looked so small.

So fragile.

So unfair.

Lumuhod ako without thinking. Hindi ko hinawakan ang kandila, pero inilapit ko ang kamay ko enough para maramdaman ang init.

“He’s already gone,” bulong ko.

“In your time, yes.”

Napatingala ako agad.

“What does that mean?”

“It means endings are not always as final as people think.”

Tumayo ako nang mabilis, muntik pang mawalan ng balanse. “Don’t do that. Don’t talk in riddles. Sabihin mo nang diretso.”

“I can send you back,” sabi niya. “Sa mga araw bago mamatay ang kandilang ito.”

Hindi agad nag-make sense ang words.

Send me back.

Before Caelan died.

Umiling ako. “No.”

“You haven’t heard the offer.”

“I don’t need to. Impossible iyon.”

“You’re standing in a hallway full of souls while time is frozen outside,” Death said. “Impossible is no longer your best argument.”

Nagsimulang manginig ang kamay ko.

“You’re saying kaya mo akong ibalik?”

“Yes.”

“Before Caelan died?”

“Yes.”

Biglang uminit ang mata ko.

“Why?” tanong ko. “Why me?”

Death didn’t answer right away. Tumingin muna siya sa kandila ni Caelan.

“Because you noticed the empty chair before anyone told you to care,” sabi niya. “Because you remembered a kindness so small even he might have forgotten it. Because guilt brought you here, but guilt is not the only thing inside you.”

Napalunok ako. “That doesn’t mean I can save him.”

“No.”

“Then bakit mo ino-offer?”

“Because you might try.”

Mas masakit iyon kaysa sa expected kong sagot.

I wanted him to say I was special. Chosen. Important. Na may secret reason kung bakit ako, si Lyra Villanueva, ang makakaayos ng lahat.

Pero hindi.

He only said I might try.

And somehow, that was scarier.

“What exactly do you want me to do?” tanong ko.

“You will wake up before all of this,” sabi ni Death. “Before the announcement. Before the whispers. Before his name was written outside a viewing room.”

“How far back?”

“To the first day the thread began to tighten.”

“That means nothing to me.”

“It will.”

“I hate that answer.”

“I know.”

“Can I tell someone?”

“You can speak. Whether they believe you is another matter.”

“Can I tell Caelan?”

Biglang dumilim ang mata niya.

The candles flickered.

“You may tell him anything you are willing to carry the consequence of.”

“That’s not a rule.”

“It is the only honest one.”

Hinagod ko ang buhok ko with both hands. Panic was rising too fast. “I don’t know anything about him. Hindi ko alam friends niya, family niya, problema niya. I don’t even know what I’m supposed to stop.”

“No one saves another person by knowing everything at the beginning.”

“Then how?”

“Start by not looking away.”

Tumama sa akin ang words na iyon.

Caelan’s empty chair.

His notebook.

The wing sketched in the corner.

The blue pen.

The photo sa wake, where he looked alive and annoyed and impossible to reach.

Tala, standing beside the memory table, thanking me for coming like my presence meant something.

The group chat. The stolen photo. The way everyone wanted a piece of Caelan after he was gone, when maybe what he needed was someone before.

My throat hurt.

“What happens if I fail?”

Death’s expression closed.

Every candle stopped moving.

“If you fail,” he said quietly, “time returns to its proper shape.”

“That means Caelan still dies.”

“Yes.”

Napapikit ako.

“And me?”

“You will remember everything.”

A cold wave passed through me.

“That’s it?”

“No,” he said. “But it is enough.”

And I understood.

Maybe not fully. Pero enough para maramdaman ko ang bigat.

If I failed, babalik ako sa gabing ito. Same candle. Same grief. Same ending.

Only worse.

Because then hindi ko na puwedeng sabihin na hindi ko alam.

I would know every chance I missed.

Every wrong word.

Every moment na umiwas ako.

Tinakpan ko ang bibig ko with one hand.

“Sixteen lang ako,” bulong ko.

“I know.”

“I can barely fix my own life.”

“I know.”

“This is too much.”

“Yes.”

Tumawa ako once, pero nabasag iyon halfway and almost sounded like a sob. “Ang pangit mo kausap sa deals.”

“I am not here to make it sound easy.”

“Then bakit ka nandito?”

Death held out the candle.

The white flame leaned toward me.

“To ask if you meant what you wrote.”

I stared at it.

Thank you for the blue pen.

I’m sorry I never gave you more than silence.

My hand lifted before I even decided to move.

Caelan once gave me a pen without being asked.

A tiny thing.

A forgettable thing.

Except I didn’t forget.

Maybe that had to mean something.

Maybe not enough.

But something.

“What if he doesn’t want my help?” tanong ko.

“Then listen.”

“What if he hates me?”

“Then listen.”

“What if I make it worse?”

For a second, Death’s face softened.

“Then learn faster.”

I closed my eyes.

I thought of Caelan’s chair.

Empty.

Waiting.

Wrong.

When I opened my eyes, kinuha ko ang candle.

Hindi ako nasunog ng apoy.

“I’ll try,” sabi ko.

Death looked at me.

“Trying will cost you.”

“I know.”

“No,” he said. “You don’t.”

Mas hinigpitan ko ang hawak sa kandila. “Then I’ll find out.”

For the first time, Death smiled.

Not kind. Not cruel.

Just ancient.

“Very well, Lyra Villanueva.”

The hallway began to shake.

Isa-isa, namatay ang mga kandila.

The names disappeared into darkness.

Caelan’s candle was the last one left.

Its flame rose higher, brighter, until napapikit ako sa sobrang liwanag.

Death’s voice came from everywhere and nowhere.

“Remember this when you wake: saving him does not mean owning him. His life is not a prize. His pain is not a puzzle made for you.”

Biglang nawala ang sahig sa ilalim ko.

I gasped, clutching the candle to my chest, pero wala akong mahawakan. No walls. No air. No up or down.

Only falling.

Only darkness.

Only Death’s final words following me.

“Start with hello.”

Then I hit something soft.

Napabalikwas ako ng gising, habol ang hininga.

My room.

My bed.

Morning light.

For a second, hindi ako makagalaw.

Then my hand flew to my chest.

No candle.

No wax.

No flame.

Just my heart beating so hard it hurt.

Nag-buzz ang phone ko sa tabi ng unan.

I grabbed it.

The date on the screen made my stomach drop.

Hindi ito ang morning after Caelan died.

Weeks before pa.

And below the date was a message from Mika.

Girl, bilisan mo. First day na ng month, late ka na naman.

I stared at the screen hanggang lumabo ang paningin ko.

Then somewhere outside my window, narinig ko ang malayong tunog ng school bell.

And I remembered.

Start with hello.