Esperanza lay on the bed, her fragile body illuminated by the glow from the lampshade. Her thin, frail hands clutched a rosary. She must have fallen asleep while reciting her prayers. The teardrop on her cheek sparkled, and he leaned closer to wipe it away with his thumb. He had never seen her cry after Philip, his grandfather, died, but he had often heard her sob behind closed doors. She always showed strength in front of her grandchildren, always keeping her burden to herself, but Crimson didn't need to see her cry to know she was in pain. He just had to look into his abuela's tired, sad eyes to feel it, as if it were his own. Esperanza had loved Philip with all her heart, and after his life was snatched away in cold-blooded murder, a part of her had been taken away. Her smile, the sparkle in her eyes, and her laughter were all gone. "Hijo?" Esperanza stirred from her peaceful slumber. Slowly, her eyes opened. "Isabela," she murmured weakly. "She's fine now," he replied, wiping
Magbasa pa
Mag-log in
