THE MAID I MARRIED
Wala kang karapatang masaktan.
Slowly, I stood up, brushing the dirt from my knees and shaking out my skirt. My legs felt heavy, as if they were filled with lead. I turned back toward the house, but instead of going inside, I walked over to the old stone bench beneath the mango tree and sat down. The branches above me cast dappled shade, and the breeze carried the scent of ripening fruit and damp earth. It was a beautiful morning—peaceful, perfect—yet I felt as if I were suffocating.