Chapter 5

Reina and her Papa Hiron landed safely in the Philippines. She felt a mix of relief and nervousness. Everything was uncertain now—but it was her choice. Her second father had connections in Davao Oriental, where she could stay hidden for a while.

The plane touched down on a private airstrip nestled deep in the mountains. The area was quiet and surrounded by cornfields, the place looking simple but safe. The atmosphere was fresh, untouched, and far from the smoke and noise of the city.

“Let’s go, anak. We need to move quickly,” Hiron said, picking up Reina’s travel bag.

They walked up a small cemented path, where a black SUV waited. Reina recognized the car. It belonged to one of her father Axell’s trusted men. The driver gave a slight bow as they entered the vehicle, never meeting her eyes—a clear sign of respect, the way guards treated royalty.

Inside, Hiron broke the silence.

“Hija, your Papa Axell said you need to lie low here. There’s a resthouse waiting for you near Dahican Beach. It’s quiet, peaceful, and far from the eyes of those looking for you.”

Reina nodded. “Okay.”

“If you need anything, just let me know. I’ll call you from time to time.”

She gave another small nod. “Did Mama Tasha know about this?”

Hiron shook his head. “No. It’s just me and Axell. We didn’t want her involved. You know she’s fragile.”

“Understood.” Reina looked outside the car. The roads were narrow and peaceful, lined with coconut trees. The rural landscape gave her a sense of calm, like breathing real air for the first time in years.

“What dialect do people speak here?” she asked.

“Bisaya.”

She smiled, remembering she had once learned the language during her studies in the convent. She still remembered some of it.

“Alright.”

Then, Hiron handed her an envelope.

“What’s this?” she asked.

“Your new documents. From now on, you are Maureen Lopez, a tourist and a freelance writer. You have no family. You’re here in Davao Oriental to work on your novel. Keep your story straight, understand?”

“Yes, Pa.”

Soon, they reached their destination—Dahican Beach. The view was breathtaking. The sea was a dazzling shade of blue, and the soft wind from the ocean greeted them gently.

“Welcome to your new home, hija,” Hiron said warmly.

“Daghang salamat, Pa,” Reina replied with a small smile.

Hiron raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “That’s better. Your Bisaya is still sharp.”

Before they could take a step further, a cheerful teenage girl with bright eyes and bouncy steps welcomed them.

“Hello po! Kayo na po ba ang bisita?” she said, trying hard to speak in Tagalog.

“We are,” Hiron responded.

“Come in, po!” she beamed and carried some of their bags inside.

The house was a bungalow-style beach house—partly made of concrete, bamboo, and a roof of native nipa. It looked simple outside, but inside it was surprisingly clean and well-furnished. Polished wooden floors, native woven designs, and bright curtains made the space feel warm and welcoming.

“Please sit down po. I’m Mel, short for Melody. I’m nineteen, single, and ready to mingle! Ehem—maybe you have a handsome brother?” she said, playfully fixing her hair.

Reina chuckled. Mel’s energy was contagious, and for the first time in days, she felt her heart ease.

“I think it’s time for me to leave, hija,” Hiron said.

Before he could go, Reina gave him a tight hug. She owed him so much. From the time she was a little girl, he was always there—protecting her, guiding her, and now helping her escape a life she never chose.

“Goodbye.”

“Take care…” Reina said, forcing a smile even though her heart felt heavy. As Hiron left, Mel eagerly gave her a quick tour of the house.

“Ma’am, here’s your kitchen,” she said, walking Reina through a small hallway connecting the bathroom to the main living area.

The house was well-ventilated and had a stunning ocean view right outside the porch. It was the kind of place that made you want to write, think, or simply breathe.

“Mel, is the town center far from here?” Reina asked.

“Dool ra kaayo! I mean… it’s very near!” she corrected herself, laughing.

“I see. I want to cook something later.”

“Really? You can cook, ma’am?”

“Of course!”

Mel's eyes widened. “Wow! And you speak Bisaya too?”

“Just a little. Kabalo ko… gamay lang,” Reina laughed.

Mel clapped her hands. “Ay, ma’am! You’re so cool. I thought you were an actress when I saw you earlier. Like… Lily Collins realness!”

“You’re such a flatterer,” Reina replied, giggling.

“I swear! Cross my heart!” Mel said, making a sign of the cross.

Reina couldn’t help but burst into laughter.

“Come on, let’s go to the market!” she said, grabbing her bag.

As they walked along the shore, the simplicity of the village life became more obvious. Kids played by the waves. Fishermen were fixing their nets. Housewives hung clothes to dry. It was peaceful—so different from the luxury cage she had lived in.

Along the way, Mel started to talk about her life.

“Ma’am, I work part-time as a caretaker here to pay for my school fees. My dad’s a fisherman, and my mom… sometimes she’s a laundrywoman or a seamstress. We just manage to get by.”

Reina nodded. “That’s admirable.”

“By the way, Ma’am, what’s your real name? I didn’t catch it earlier.”

Reina paused for a second. “Ah, I forgot. I’m Maureen Lopez. I’m a writer.”

Mel gasped. “Oh my God! A writer? Like the ones who write pocketbooks? Ma’am, I love those! I have tons of them at home! Want to read some?”

“Will you lend them to me?”

Mel scratched her head and laughed awkwardly. “Actually… I’m selling them. I need money for tuition.”

Reina laughed again. This girl was impossible to dislike. Somehow, Mel convinced her to buy the entire collection for ₱3,000. Reina didn’t even argue.

After 20 minutes of walking, they arrived at the local market. But instead of shops and stalls, Reina was met with an unexpected sight.

“Where are the goods?” she asked, scanning the area.

Mel pointed toward the sea, where fishermen had nylon cages bobbing in the water.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you, ma’am. Our market here is fresh—super fresh. We catch what we want to buy.”

“What do you mean?”

“We’re going fishing!”

“What?!” Reina’s eyes widened in disbelief.

“I can’t believe this…” she said, but a smile was forming on her lips.

And just like that, Maureen Lopez—the girl who used to live behind gold-plated gates—was about to fish for her dinner, on a quiet shore, under the hot provincial sun, with her new bubbly friend beside her.

Maybe… just maybe… this was the life she was meant to live all along.