Chapter 7: The Return

Kathalina sat pressed against the window of the plane, her knees bent loosely under the baggy pants she had thrown on that morning. A hooded jacket hung open across her shoulders, the zipper undone so the soft cotton of her plain white sando peeked through. The air conditioning inside the cabin was cool, but she didn’t bother pulling the hood up. Her dark hair fell freely, a curtain she sometimes used as armor. The jacket’s loose fabric framed her small waist, and she tugged at it absentmindedly, as though hiding herself from the curious glances of other passengers.

She wasn’t here to be noticed. Not now. Not ever.

The captain’s voice drifted through the speakers, calm and professional: “Ladies and gentlemen, we’ll begin our descent into the city shortly. Please fasten your seatbelts.”

The words made her chest tighten. The city. The city where she was born, the city where she lost her mother, the city she had not set foot in for years. Her heart pounded as the world outside the oval window shifted from endless clouds to patches of coastline, the familiar outline of mountains, and finally, the scattered grid of buildings she once called home.

She swallowed hard. I never thought I’d come back like this.

Tomorrow, Attorney Jun will read her mother’s will. Tomorrow, the silence she had wrapped herself in would break open.

Her fingers curled into fists on her lap. The memories came rushing in before she could stop them.

Flashback

The hospital room was dim, the curtains drawn to soften the late afternoon sun. Machines beeped steadily, a reminder of time slipping away. Her mother had looked fragile, too fragile for Kathalina to bear.

“Kat…” her mother had whispered, her hand cold in hers. “Promise me, no matter what happens, you’ll live your life bravely. Don’t run from yourself.”

Kathalina had nodded, though her throat was burning. She couldn’t speak. The words never came.

She had run anyway.

The memory cut sharply, and Kathalina blinked fast, forcing the tears back. She pressed her forehead to the cool glass of the plane window. Below, the runway stretched closer, lines of light marking the path.

Her phone vibrated on the tray table. A message. She didn’t need to check who it was from. Erica.

“I’m already at the airport. Don’t worry. I’ll wait near the exit.”

A small smile tugged at Kathalina’s lips. Erica never changed. Always steady, always waiting, always understanding.

Last year, when Erica married her long-term boyfriend, Kathalina had promised to attend. She had even circled the date in her planner. But when the time came, she hadn’t gone. She had stayed in Milan, hiding behind the excuse of work, pretending the world didn’t expect her to show up.

“Busy,” she had said on the phone, her voice clipped, almost cold.

And Erica had simply laughed softly and said, “I understand.”

But Kathalina knew she hadn’t been busy. She had been afraid. Afraid of walking into a room full of people who remembered her, afraid of being reminded of the life she left behind.

She clenched her jaw now. Erica had forgiven her, but she hadn’t forgiven herself.

The plane jolted as its wheels hit the runway, the cabin filling with the screech of rubber on asphalt. A few passengers clapped softly, but Kathalina barely noticed. Her heart was hammering in her chest, as if the sound belonged to her alone.

The engines slowed, and soon they were taxiing toward the terminal. She gathered her jacket tighter around herself, as though bracing for a storm.

When the seatbelt sign dinged off, people rushed to stand, pulling bags from overhead bins. Kathalina stayed seated, waiting until the aisle cleared. She moved only when there was no choice, sliding her carry-on from beneath the seat and slinging it over her shoulder.

With every step, the air felt heavier. The glass doors of the airport gleamed ahead, a boundary between her and the past.

And then she saw her.

Erica stood just beyond the sliding exit doors, tall and radiant in a soft cream blouse and navy slacks. Her hair was pulled into a neat ponytail, and her smile bloomed the moment her eyes landed on Kathalina. She lifted a hand and waved as though they had parted only yesterday.

Kathalina stopped in her tracks. For a second, she couldn’t move.

“Kat!” Erica called, her voice warm and familiar, cutting through the noise of luggage wheels and flight announcements.

Slowly, Kathalina walked forward, each step dragging the weight of years. She let the automatic doors sweep open, the humid air of the city hitting her face.

Erica didn’t hesitate. She wrapped her arms around Kathalina, pulling her close.

“It’s been too long,” she whispered.

Kathalina stiffened, then slowly allowed herself to lean in. For the first time in years, she let someone hold her.

They moved to the car waiting outside, Erica taking her bag without asking, as though it was the most natural thing in the world.

“You look tired,” Erica said, studying her face as they settled inside. “Long flight?”

Kathalina shrugged. “I didn’t sleep.”

“Still the same,” Erica teased lightly. “Always thinking too much.”

Kathalina gave a small laugh, the sound almost foreign to her ears.

They drove slowly through the Manila streets, the city unfolding in pieces that felt both achingly familiar and strangely distant. From the car window, Kathalina saw the bright chaos of roadside vendors fruit stalls piled high with mangoes and bananas, a man fanning smoke over skewers of isaw and barbecue, children weaving between tricycles selling sampaguita garlands. The humid air pressed in even through the glass, thick with the scent of grilled food, exhaust, and the salty tang of the bay.

They turned down a busier road, and her gaze caught on a corner bookstore with peeling paint, its windows stacked with secondhand novels and school supplies. She remembered walking there with her mother on weekends, clutching a worn five-peso coin, choosing notebooks with cartoon covers. Next to it now was a milk tea shop buzzing with students in uniform, phones in hand, laughter spilling onto the sidewalk.

Traffic stalled, as it always did, jeepneys crowding the lanes, one painted with neon saints and another with superheroes. Kathalina read the familiar hand-painted routes on their windshields…... Quiapo, España, Taft. Her heart twisted. These were the same streets her mother used to drive her along, pointing out landmarks as if Manila itself was a storybook.

As they inched forward, her eyes found the café her mother loved still there, squeezed between a pharmacy and a flower shop. Its awning faded, but the windows glowed with warm light. A man carried out a tray of pandesal, steam curling in the air, and for a moment she could almost see her mother seated at the corner table, stirring coffee with quiet grace.

They passed Roxas Boulevard, the palm trees along the bay swaying under the late afternoon sky. The sunset painted the horizon orange and violet, reflected on the water. Couples sat along the seawall, sharing street food, while vendors wheeled carts of taho and ice cream, bells chiming softly.

Her breath caught when they turned near her old high school. The gates still stood tall, freshly painted, students spilling out in neat uniforms, backpacks bouncing on their shoulders. She remembered being one of them, waiting for her mother at the gate, who always arrived a little late but smiling, her hands full of snacks. Now, watching the parents waiting at the curb, Kathalina felt the hollow absence where her own mother used to be.

The car moved again, weaving past towering billboards and flyovers painted with murals. Motorcycles darted dangerously between cars, vendors knocked on windows selling bottled water, peanuts, and phone chargers. Everything was loud, alive, relentless.

Manila looked the same. The jeepneys still roared, the vendors still called out, the streets still pulled with endless energy. Yet to Kathalina, every familiar sight carried weight. Each corner whispered a memory, and every landmark reminded her of what she had lost.

The city had not changed. But she handed that was what made everything feel so different.

“How’s the branch?” Kathalina asked, her voice low.

Erica smiled proudly. “Busy. We’ve been doing well. Your trust in me means everything, Kat. The Manila office is still thriving, but here… this feels like home.”

Home. The word twisted inside Kathalina.

She turned her gaze back to the window.

Tomorrow, Attorney Jun will read her mother’s will. Tomorrow, the past will demand answers.

For tonight, she would let the city sink into her bones again.

For tonight, she would try to remember how to breathe.