LOGIN"Why the hell do I have to get involved in this mess?" Louelita muttered under her breath, frustration lacing every word as she hurriedly gathered supplies in the supermarket.
She had tried to put off going outside for as long as possible, but her food stock had finally run out. She had even considered ordering a delivery, but something-or someone-seemed determined to make sure she left the house. Dressed in a black hooded jacket, brown baggy pants, and low-cut shoes, she tried her best to blend in. Her long hair, usually tied back, was loose around her shoulders, and she kept her head down, avoiding eye contact with anyone around her. The last thing she wanted was attention. For an entire week, she had been immersed in her case, tirelessly digging through files and hacking into hidden servers to uncover the sickening crimes of powerful politicians. And what she found made her stomach churn. They weren't just corrupt-they were monsters. Human trafficking. Drug smuggling. Sexual exploitation. Murder. They had turned the world into their personal playground, preying on the innocent without a shred of remorse. They were demons in expensive suits, using their wealth and influence to bury their sins. Louelita had worked day and night, breaking into their secured sites, extracting evidence, and preparing to expose their filth to the world. But every time she tried to leak the information, it vanished. Deleted as if it had never existed. Someone was watching her. Blocking her. Silencing her. And now, she was being forced out of her safe space. She clenched her fists. 'I need to warn Sister Faith.' She shoved a few more necessities into her cart, but her movements became more rigid as the uneasy feeling in her gut grew stronger. There were eyes on her. Not just the usual glances from strangers passing by, but a persistent, calculated gaze that sent shivers down her spine. Her breathing hitched. Maybe going outside was a mistake. She should have just found another delivery service, even if it meant paying three times the price. Despite her efforts to stay inconspicuous, she could feel people looking at her. Judging her. Whispering. Were they really just regular customers? Or was she being paranoid? Either way, her nerves were shot. She averted her gaze, ignoring the occasional forced smile from strangers. It felt suffocating. Every second she spent outside was draining her. 'I need to get out of here.' Louelita rushed through the aisles, barely checking what she grabbed, and made her way to the cashier. The young woman behind the register greeted her with a polite smile. "Good afternoon, Ma'am! Lovely weather today, isn't it?" Louelita bit her lower lip. She didn't respond. She just wanted this to be over. The cashier, offended by her silence, deliberately slowed her movements. One by one, she swiped each item at an agonizing pace, glancing up at Louelita as if waiting for a reaction. Louelita's foot tapped against the floor impatiently. 'She's doing this on purpose.' Her anxiety skyrocketed. The weight of unseen stares made it even worse. She clenched her hands into fists, her nails digging into her palms. "P-Please hurry," she finally said, her voice trembling. The cashier ignored her. The blatant disregard made her throat tighten. She felt small. Helpless. Her entire body trembled as she tried to suppress the panic rising within her. 'This is hell.' Finally, after what felt like an eternity, the cashier announced, "That'll be 6,077 pesos, Ma'am." There was an edge to her tone-a barely concealed mockery-but Louelita didn't care. She paid, grabbed her bags, and bolted out of the supermarket without looking back. Even as she stepped into the open air, the weight on her chest didn't lift. The world outside was just as suffocating. 'I hate this. I hate being outside. I hate being around people.' Louelita would rather live in complete solitude than endure this constant anxiety. She quickly flagged down a taxi and climbed inside, rattling off her address before pulling the door shut. She didn't bother looking at the driver. She didn't care. She just wanted to go home. After sometime, Louelita sat stiffly in the backseat, gripping her bags tightly. Her teeth worried at her fingernails as she stared blankly at the passing streets. She wanted to believe she was safe now, but the uneasy feeling hadn't gone away. Something was wrong. The driver was stealing glances at her through the rearview mirror. Her stomach twisted. 'Why is he looking at me like that?' She forced herself to breathe steadily, pretending not to notice. Maybe he was just nosy. Maybe she was just overthinking. But then- The taxi turned onto an unfamiliar road. Her heart stopped. Another turn. Then another. Buildings disappeared, replaced by empty roads and the dense silhouette of trees. Panic surged through her veins. Her fingers tightened around her phone as she swallowed the lump in her throat. The driver smirked. He knew she had figured it out. Louelita's pulse pounded in her ears. She had to act fast. She pulled up her messages and typed frantically. To: Sister Faith I think this is my end. Someone is trying to kill me. If you're reading this, please don't worry. Maybe this is just my fate. I love you, Sister. Thank you for being my family. Her hands trembled as she hit send. She clenched her eyes shut. This was it. She had spent her life digging into darkness, and now the darkness had found her. For the first time in years, she felt truly powerless. The taxi drove further and further away from the city, bumping along a rough, uneven road. Louelita's breathing grew shallow. She had no weapons. No way to fight back. She had been so focused on exposing corruption that she never prepared for the consequences. She was a fool. The car came to a sudden stop. Her body jolted forward, and before she could react, the driver stepped out and yanked open her door. "Get out." His voice was sharp. Cold. Louelita froze. Beyond the car, there was nothing but darkness. No streetlights. No houses. Just towering trees and the faint sound of crashing waves. Her blood turned to ice. He had taken her to an isolated spot-far from anyone who could help. 'Oh, God. Oh, God.' Her breath hitched as she met his gaze. He held a gun. Her stomach twisted violently. She was smart, wasn't she? She was supposed to be smart. Then why the hell didn't she run when she had the chance? "Please," she whispered, desperation leaking into her voice. "I haven't done anything wrong. I was just doing my job." The man scoffed. "So am I." Her heartbeat pounded against her ribcage. He was going to kill her. 'No. No. I don't want to die.' She was frozen in place, terror rooting her to the seat. The man clicked his tongue. "Don't make this harder than it needs to be." Then he grabbed her arm and yanked her out. Louelita stumbled, her legs shaking beneath her. Her vision blurred. 'This is it. This is how I die.' The wind howled around them, carrying the scent of salt and damp earth. Her thoughts spiraled. Alone. She was always alone. And now, she would die alone. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes. She should have fought back. She should have learned how to defend herself. But it was too late now. The man's grip tightened as he dragged her forward. Louelita's breath hitched. Then, in a desperate, reckless moment- She ran, but then fate isn't agreeing with her right now.The morning it happened, nobody noticed at first. That was appropriate.The best changes in the north house rarely arrived with speeches or anything dramatic enough to deserve witnesses. They came disguised as inconvenience, noise, crumbs, missing socks, two children arguing over a pencil sharpener as if inheritance law were involved, or Rosa muttering the names of saints under her breath because someone—almost certainly Eiji—had brought mud into the kitchen and then denied the existence of weather.This morning began with bread. Burnt bread, specifically. Ezra was responsible.Louelita knew that before she had even opened her eyes fully because the smell drifting through the upstairs hall had none of Rosa’s authority in it. Rosa burned nothing unless the world was ending, and even then she would probably apologize to the pan.This was a man’s mistake. A confident one. A man who had underestimated heat because he was reading a briefing while claiming to “watch the toast.”She sat up i
The first time all of the children fit around one table, the house nearly lost the argument with itself.Not because the table was too small, but because adulthood was.That was the truth of it, Louelita thought as she stood in the kitchen doorway and watched chaos slowly gather shape in the dining room. The space had once belonged to polished dinners, donor-perfect flowers, carefully folded napkins, and adults who knew exactly which fork to use while discussing things they preferred to keep respectable. Now it belonged, correctly, to jam, soup, sharpened pencils, missing socks, mismatched bowls, and children who had absolutely no interest in maintaining the dignity of furniture.Ezra stood beside her with one hand tucked into his pocket and the other holding a plate Rosa had told him to carry several minutes ago. Somehow, despite possessing the organizational ability to move entire operations without losing track of a single detail, he had still not managed to set it down.“You’re bl
The first person Noel trusted with silence was not Louelita.It was not Rosa either.It was Louie, and that surprised almost everyone except Louelita. She had been watching the shape of the house more carefully than the adults around her realized, paying attention not only to who the children approached but also to whom they allowed themselves to simply exist beside. Somewhere along the way, she had begun to understand that frightened children often trusted people in the middle before they trusted the obvious centers of safety.Louie lived in the middle.He was not fully a child anymore, but he was not fully an adult either. He was not soft in the theatrical way some grown-ups tried to be when children frightened them, coating every word in sweetness until kindness itself began to feel suspicious. Neither was he armed with authority, at least not the kind that announced itself in doorways and changed the air simply by entering.Louie was just there.He was on sofas, in hallways, at th
The trouble began with a form.That, Louelita would later insist, was how all the worst adult ideas entered rooms meant for children. They rarely arrived through shouting or open cruelty anymore. Those things were too obvious, too easy to recognize for what they were.The dangerous ideas came quietly.They came through paperwork.It was raining that afternoon in the soft, determined way the season preferred, steady enough to silver the back windows but light enough that the children could still hear one another over it if they argued properly. Water threaded slowly down the glass, blurring the garden beyond into green and gray.The dining room had long since stopped functioning as an actual dining room. Occupation had transformed it into a worktable, an art station, a negotiation zone, and occasionally a battlefield over whose pencil had been whose first. Crayons lived there permanently now, along with soup stains, half-finished reading sheets, folded paper animals, and one chipped gr
The first time Ezra knocked on a child’s door, the whole house heard it.Not because the sound was particularly loud, but because it was Ezra making it.Men like Ezra did not usually knock inside homes they had bled to build. They entered. Quietly, perhaps, and carefully when the room required it, but they still carried the old certainty of men who had spent most of their lives becoming the kind of force doors did not meaningfully resist. A closed door had always been an obstacle, a boundary to assess and cross when necessary, never something that required permission from the person on the other side.So when his knuckles touched the wood of the east room at half past midnight and produced three low, measured taps, the house seemed to listen.Louelita heard it from the sitting room sofa, where she had been reading the same page for nearly ten minutes without turning it. The book rested open across her lap, but the words had long since stopped entering her mind. Rosa sat in the armchai
By the time the rains came properly, the north house no longer sounded temporary.That was not the same as saying it sounded healed. Louelita had learned to distrust adults who used that word too early, as though naming recovery could somehow hurry it into existence. The old line had loved early words. Stabilized, improved, adjusted, and safe. Every one of them had been laid over a wound before the body beneath it had finished deciding whether it wanted to keep living in the same shape.So no, the north house was not healed.But it had become itself, and Louelita had come to understand that this mattered far more than any clean word someone might have written on an assessment form.The first sign had been the hallway lamps. In the beginning, they stayed on because the children asked for them. Then they stayed on because no one remembered to argue about whether they were necessary. Eventually, one evening three months later, Louie changed a bulb in the upstairs east hall without being
“I can’t let other people see me, especially those who know me… I’ll only put them in danger! I will drag them into this mess, and I cannot bear that in my conscience.” She said, barely whisper.Louelita’s voice wavered, her emotions cracking through every syllable. Her fists clenched tightly on he
Omar hesitated, gripping his phone tightly, his voice unsure as he spoke. “B-But, Boss—”Ezra's patience was extremely limited. He didn’t have time for objections. “Are you questioning my decisions, Omar?” His voice pierced the phone like a sharp instrument.Immediately, Omar shook his head, though
Ezra Velleoti had always sought solace in the sea. It was the only place that gave him a sense of peace, a refuge from the suffocating demands of his work. As the leader of the Velleoti Mafia, his life was a relentless cycle of violence, deception, and power plays. But out here, away from the chao
Louelita’s screams echoed through the car, raw with desperation as she fought against the iron grip of the man trying to drag her out. His rough hands yanked at her mercilessly, his breath reeking of smoke and sweat as he snarled in frustration.“You’re really making this difficult for me, huh?!” h







