MARBLE STAIRS AND GOLD WRAPPING

Metro Manila, June 12, 2011The Zumatra Mansion rose from the heart of Forbes Park like a white marble fortress, its columns reaching toward a sky so blue it seemed painted on canvas. At seven years old, Terafina Funtasierra still felt small every time she crossed the iron gates, her worn canvas shoes crunching on gravel that had probably cost more than her father’s monthly rent.“Straighten your dress, Tera,” her half-sister Delara hissed, adjusting the bow on her own silk frock. “You look like you slept in a cardboard box.”Tera tucked a strand of dark curly hair behind her ear, her fingers brushing the blue fabric of her only party dress — a hand-me-down from Delara, three sizes too big and cinched at the waist with a belt her grandmother had made from woven abaca fiber. “I’m fine,” she mumbled, but she pulled at the hem anyway, wishing she could disappear into the manicured hedges that lined the driveway.Inside, the mansion hummed with life. Crystal chandeliers dripped from ceili

THE SHADOWS WE LIVE IN

Three months later — September 2011The Funtasierra apartment in Malate was small and cramped compared to the Zumatra Mansion, but it was home. Tera sat at the kitchen table, her homework spread out before her, while her grandmother peeled garlic over a bowl of adobo.“Your father’s coming home late again,” Lola Carmen said, her voice rough from years of smoking hand-rolled cigarettes. “Meeting with that friend of his.”“Mr. Zumatra?” Tera asked, her pencil stilling on her math worksheet.Lola Carmen nodded, her weathered hands moving with practiced ease. “They’re talking about some business deal. Roberto Zumatra wants your father to handle his company’s legal affairs. Says he trusts him like family.”Tera’s chest tightened. Family. The word felt like a knife. She hadn’t seen Magnus since his birthday, hadn’t even been allowed to call the hospital. Delara visited him every day, coming home with stories about how he was doing, how he’d asked about Tera — though Tera suspected those par

THE WEIGHT OF LIMP

Metro Manila, June 2016Magnus Zumatra leaned against the balcony railing of his penthouse apartment in Makati, watching the city lights twinkle below like scattered diamonds. At thirteen, he was already taller than most of his classmates, his dark hair cut short, his brown eyes serious beyond his years. The brace on his left leg was lighter now, more of a support than a necessity, but it still reminded him every day of the fall that had changed his life.“Magnus, dinner’s ready,” Delara called from inside. She was fifteen now, beautiful and confident, a regular presence in his home. She’d been by his side through every physical therapy session, every doctor’s appointment, every moment when he’d wanted to give up and never walk again.“Coming,” he said, pushing off the railing and making his way inside. The limp was barely noticeable now, but he still hated it — hated the way people looked at him with pity, hated the way his mother fussed over him, hated the reminder that he wasn’t as

SHE'S BACK

Paris, France — June 2018 Tera stood in the doorway of the small clinic in Saint-Denis, her white coat crisp and clean, her hands steady as she prepared for another day of work. At fourteen, she was the youngest volunteer at the clinic, which served the immigrant communities that called this part of Paris home. “Terafina! Come quickly!” She turned to find Marie, one of the nurses, waving her over to an examination room. Inside, a young boy of about eight lay on the table, his leg twisted at an odd angle, tears streaming down his face. His mother hovered beside him, speaking rapidly in Arabic. “He fell from the fire escape,” Marie explained. “We need to stabilize his leg before the ambulance arrives.” Tera’s hands moved without thinking. She’d done this a hundred times now — first on dolls, then on models in her anatomy class, then on patients at the clinic. She carefully examined the boy’s leg, checking for signs of a compound fracture, then used a rolled blanket to create a spl

Her Emotion

For Tera, seeing Magnus again was a mistake. Her hatred for the people who had once been important in her life, but who had treated her as an enemy and a liar, simply returned. What was the point of her asking questions if, from the very beginning, he couldn't believe her? Tera swallowed many times before exiting the cafe. She thought it would be another sign of weakness if she cried again. It had been years, after all. She wasn't there for him anyway, but for the people who needed her help. "Tera!" Alvero called out loudly, he was just behind her. He was with Tera on her mission; they had also studied together and passed the examination to become physical therapists. He had also attempted to court Tera, but she didn't agree. She wasn't ready yet, but he subtly guarded her from other men who wanted to approach her. It was fortunate that Tera was kind and not aloof. She was easy to talk to, which was why all her classmates and acquaintances liked her. But she didn't fancy any of the

GRANDMA'S APARTMENT

Instead of heading straight to her condo to rest, Tera chose to visit her Grandmother in Malate. The trip took several minutes before she arrived, but she found a gloomy apartment. Her grandmother wasn't there; she had gone to the market. And the person she met was her sister, who wasn't eager to see her. "Well, fancy you deciding to visit? I thought you were going to live in Paris. Why did you even bother coming home, I'm sure your life there is wonderful," Delara said sarcastically to her sister. Tera didn't know how to talk to her sister. If before she could easily badmouth and argue with her, now she couldn't. Because Tera could now fight back and defend herself. She also no longer cared what others would say, whether they would believe her or not. Anyway, no one helped her defend herself before, so now she would rely only on herself. "I just want to see how you badmouth me to other people, especially to Magnus," Tera said with a smirk, which surprised Delara. "Just kidding. I