Chapter 4

Jessa trudged home, shoulders slumped in defeat. She had just come from visiting her Aunt Beth—her mother's sister—only to be turned away like all the others. No matter how much she pleaded, her aunt refused to lend her money. It was the same with every relative she approached. Not one of them was willing to help.

It stung. She could still remember how these very same people used to run to her parents for financial assistance, borrowing money and pawning off valuables whenever they were in trouble. But now that she and her father were the ones in need, no one was willing to extend a hand.

The rejection was one thing, but the insults cut deeper. Some even called her father a fool, a gullible man too naïve for his own good. All she gained from the exhausting day was heartbreak and wasted fare. She had spent hours desperately seeking help, hoping at least one of their relatives would show some compassion—but in the end, she got nothing.

There was only one option left.

Sell the house.

Their home was massive—practically a mansion. She was sure it was worth millions. If she sold it, she could buy a smaller place for herself and her father with whatever remained.

Determined, she flagged down a taxi and hurried home. Her father was nowhere to be seen when she arrived. Without hesitation, she climbed the stairs and headed straight to the library, which had once been her mother's office.

The room remained untouched, preserved exactly as her mother had left it. A sharp pang of longing stabbed at her chest. If her mother were still alive, their lives wouldn't have turned out this way. She wouldn't have to swallow her pride and beg for help.

Jessa approached her mother's desk and picked up a framed photograph. She sank into the swivel chair, her fingers brushing over the glass as she gazed at her mother's face.

"Mom, why did you have to leave so soon?" Her voice cracked, her eyes stinging with unshed tears. "I don't even know where to find ten million pesos to pay off Papa's debt."

She sniffled, clutching the frame tighter. "At least send Papa a little luck, please. He's so damn trusting—he let uncle Albert fool him, and now we have to come up with ten million, or else..." Her voice broke, and she let out a choked sob.

She didn't want to sell their home. She had grown up here, formed countless memories with her mother within these walls. As long as she stayed, it felt like her mother was still with her.

But she had no choice.

For her father's sake, she had to let go.

Blinking back tears, she gently placed the frame back on the desk and took a deep breath.

She moved toward the cabinet, searching for the key to the filing cabinet where they kept important documents. As she rifled through the shelves, she found notebooks, receipts, and scattered pens—until her eyes landed on an envelope from a bank.

A sudden sense of dread settled in her stomach.

Her hands trembled as she picked up the already-opened envelope and pulled out its contents.

As she read the notice, her blood ran cold.

They only had a few weeks left to reclaim their home.

The house had already been mortgaged.

----

Jessa sobbed uncontrollably as she spoke to her father.

With a trembling voice, he finally admitted the truth—last year, a distant relative had come to him, begging for help. It was the cousin of his cousin, whose son had been imprisoned in Saudi Arabia. The man claimed he needed a large sum of money to pay for a private lawyer because the COA (Commission on Audit) was too overwhelmed with other cases to focus on his son's situation.

Desperate to help, her father had mortgaged their house to the bank so he could lend money to this so-called relative.

"B-But Magda promised," he said weakly. "She swore they'd pay me back."

Jessa didn't even know who this Magda was, but she did know aunt Chet—her father's cousin, who was apparently related to Magda. The same aunt Chet who had just turned her away earlier, refusing to lend her even a single peso despite having all her children comfortably living abroad.

And now she was finding out that this same woman's relative owed her father money?

"When exactly do they plan to pay?" she snapped, her anger barely contained. She didn't want to yell at her father, but this was too much. How could he be so naïve?

"W-When her son manages to leave the country again..." he mumbled, unable to meet her gaze. He sat slumped on the sofa, his hands gripping the hem of his shirt. Sweat glistened on his forehead, and he looked utterly defeated.

"And when is that supposed to be?" she demanded, her voice shaking with rage. "Why did you have to mortgage our house? He's not even your cousin, Pa! Magda is aunt Chet's relative—so why didn't she mortgage her own house? Why did they come to you?"

Her gut told her that aunt Chet had manipulated her father. They all knew how soft-hearted and easily fooled he was. And now, Jessa doubted they even had any intention of paying him back.

"What if Magda never repays you? We only have a few weeks left before the bank seizes the house, Pa! And in just five days, our other creditors are going to come collecting again!" She stomped her foot in frustration, feeling utterly helpless. And then, a terrible thought hit her—

"The hardware store?" she whispered, her stomach twisting with dread.

Her father covered his face with his hands and broke into gut-wrenching sobs. Jessa's knees buckled, and she dropped to the floor in front of him.

"I-I haven't been able to pay the rent for the shop..." he choked out between sobs. "S-Six months now... The landlord evicted us last week. A-And... the employees—t-they filed a complaint with department of labor b-because I c-couldn't give them their separation pay..." He gasped for breath, his words tumbling out between desperate cries. "S-So I told them... I let them take everything inside the hardware... as their final pay."

Jessa clutched her chest as a fresh wave of tears flooded her eyes. She could almost picture how the workers must have cornered her father, forcing him to hand over everything just so they could walk away with something.

She was furious at him, but at the same time, her heart ached for him.

So this was why he had seemed so lost these past few days. This was why he had suddenly insisted on cutting back on expenses.

Because there was nothing left to save.

They had hit rock bottom.