Xian’s POV My eyes stayed fixed on her hand holding the pen—how it shook ever so slightly, how slow and heavy every stroke was as she wrote her name. Parang nagdadalawang isip sya. It looked almost painful, as if she were giving away something precious with every letter. A strange, uneasy feeling pulled tight inside my chest, sharp and unexpected… but I hardened my heart right away. She agreed to this. She knows exactly what she’s getting out of it, ‘di ba? I told myself firmly, pushing that odd pity far away. I gripped the pen myself, signed my own name bold and clear right beside hers—final, unchangeable—then folded the agreement neatly and locked it deep inside my drawer, out of sight and out of mind. I lifted my face to hers, expression still cold and guarded, no softness showing anywhere. “You may go back to wherever you are staying for now. Wag ka munang pupunta rito, do not look for me, and do not try to contact me until I send word. Everything will be arranged quietly
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