CHAPTER 2 THE STRANGER

I left Lola's room before she could wake up and see me crying but the envelope felt heavier than it should have. It was only a single piece of paper, yet it carried the weight of my entire world.

Three hours was all I had left to find one hundred and fifty thousand pesos. I walked down the hospital corridor in a daze, barely noticing the people brushing past me. A little girl laughed as she chased her father toward the elevator.

I stopped beside a vending machine and opened my handbag...two hundred pesos, that was it. I stared at the worn bills for a long moment before slowly putting them back. A lump formed in my throat as I leaned against the wall and closed my eyes.

"Think, Maya. There had to be someone." I thought to myself. I pulled out my phone, the cracked screen flickered to life. The battery was barely holding on as scrolled through my contact and called anyone. Still the answer was ' No'.'

My thumb hovered over one final numb, the bank, but I laughed bitterly. Afterall, I owed the bank a lot of money already.

The nurse from earlier found me near the exit. "Miss Reyes?" I looked up and she offered me a sympathetic smile.

"I hope you don't mind me saying this...Don't give up" she said but those words shattered the last piece of strength I had left.

I smiled weakly. "I'll try."

She nodded before returning to her station. I stood there for another minute, gathering what little courage remained.

Then I stepped outside, the rain had eased into a light drizzle and the streets glistened beneath rows of yellow streetlights. People hurried home, but I had nowhere to go.

I couldn't return to my apartment, because Mr. Dela Cruz had made that clear that unless I had the rent, there was no home for me. I wrapped my arms around myself and started walking. Every few steps, I checked the time. It was now 9:26 p.m and the further I walked, the darker the streets became. The bright lights of the hospital disappeared behind me but the sidewalks were emptier.

A gust of wind swept through the narrow street and It carried another sound of footsteps with it. At first, I ignored them but then every time I spend up , the footsteps would speed up too.

A cold chill crept up my spine as I looked over my shoulder, a man stood nearly thirty metres behind me. He wore a dark jacket with the hood pulled low over his face.

When he noticed me looking...He smiled. His smile was not a friendly smile and my heart skipped a beat. I told myself that I was probably imagining rhings so I turned the corner.

The footsteps quickened, but so did mine. I didn't dare look back again but then his voice echoed through the empty street.

"Maya Reyes!" he called out to me and my blood froze. He knew my name, then I broke into a run.

The cold air burned my lungs with every breath. My soaked clothes clung to my skin, making every step heavier than the last. Behind me, the footsteps grew louder and closer.

"Maya!" the man shouted. "Stop running!" He continued but I didn't look back. Fear pushed my aching legs forward, even as my body begged me to stop.

I darted across the street, barely avoiding a passing jeepney. The driver leaned on the horn and shouted something after me, but his words were swallowed by the rain and kept running.

My borrowed flats slipped on the wet pavement. One shoe caught on a broken curb as I stumbled, nearly falling, but caught myself against a concrete wall. Panic surged through my chest but Ipushed away from the wall and ran harder. I turned another corner, into narrow alley.

"Please let there be another way out." I muttered beneath my breath, but there wasn't. The alley ended at a tall brick wall and my heart dropped.

It was a dead end, I spun around just as the man reached me. He grabbed my arm with a painful grip.

"Got you," he said, breathing heavily. His hood had slipped back enough for me to recognize him.He was one of the debt collectors who had been pounding on my apartment door earlier that day and his breath smelled strongly of alcohol.

"Where's our money?" he demanded.

"I... I don't have it." I stuttered.

"Liar."

"I'm not lying, I swear." I cried. His fingers tightened around my arm until I winced.

"You've been hiding from us for weeks."

"I know."

"You think we're fools?"

"No."

"Then where is the money?" he asked as my tears blurred my vision.

"If I had it..." My voice shook. "I'd pay you. My grandmother is in the hospital and she's very sick." I explained but he laughed. His laugh was cold and mocking.

"Everybody has a story and everybody wants more time." He leaned closer. "But our boss wants his money."

"I don't have it."

"Then maybe we should start collecting something else." My stomach twisted. His free hand reached toward my face and I flinched.

"Please, I'v'e done everything I can to make up this money""

The man stared at me for a moment, his expression never changed. Then he slowly raised his hand and I closed my eyes.

"Let her go." The words weren't loud...They didn't need to be.

The alley fell silent and the debt collector's grip loosened. I opened my eyes and a man stood at the entrance of the alley. He wore a perfectly tailored black suit despite the rain. An umbrella rested casually in one hand.

The soft glow from the streetlight behind him hid most of his face, leaving only the sharp outline of his jaw visible. Everything about him was composed, controlled and powerful. The man didn't look angry... he didn't have to.

The debt collector swallowed hard. "This doesn't concern you," he muttered but the stranger didn't answer. Instead...he took one slow step forward. The polished leather of his shoes barely made a sound against the wet pavement.

Something changed in the debt collector's face, his confidence vanished and his eyes widened with unmistakable recognition.

"N-no..." he stuttered as he took a step back, the debt collector released my arm completely.

"I'm sorry, sir." His voice trembled. "I didn't know..." He never finished the sentence, because he turned and ran.

Within seconds, he disappeared into the darkness and the alley became quiet again. I rubbed my sore arm and stared after the fleeing collector. My mind struggled to understand what had just happened.

The stranger closed his umbrella. and he walked toward me with slow, measured steps. Even soaked by the rain, his suit looked impossibly expensive.

He stopped a few feet away and for a long moment, neither of us spoke. The stranger's dark eyes studied me carefully. The look in his eyes was not pity, not with curiosity. He looked as though he were confirming something.

The strangers gaze moved over my rain-soaked clothes...my trembling hands and the bruise already forming around my wrist...Then it returned to my face.

"You should get out of the rain," he said.His voice was deep and calm. The kind of voice that expected to be obeyed. But I shook my head.

"I..." The words refused to come. "Thank you." It was all I managed.

He didn't respond immediately. Instead, he slipped one hand into the pocket of his coat. For one impossible second, I wondered if he was going to offer me money. Instead... he removed a folded photograph. He glanced at it briefly before looking back at me. His expression remained unreadable.

Then he asked quietly, "You're Maya Reyes?" My heart skipped a beat.

"Yes. How do you know my name?"

He folded the photograph and returned it to his pocket and for another long moment, he simply looked at me.

Then he spoke. "My name doesn't matter." The answer sent another chill through me. "Someone has been looking for you."

Every instinct told me to run, but my feet refused to move. I knew that I had never seen this man before. Yet somehow he knew exactly who I was. And judging by the way the debt collector had fled. Whoever he was, he was far more dangerous than the men chasing me.