CHAPTER 21

The chaos subsided, leaving Tita Cecile's floor in turmoil. Although the woman's husband had returned to their unit, someone was watching him. They chose not to call the police after he had calmed down, hoping to resolve everything through a peaceful conversation. Despite this, Tita Cecile and I thought it would be better for the mother and her son to stay with us.

I appreciated how the neighborhood responded and cooperated to address the situation. Domestic violence is a serious crime, not just a private issue. Lives are at stake, and anyone can intervene, even if the victim declines help. This is something I firmly believe.

I remembered seeing that man in the hallway a week ago. Now, I despised him. I would not let his actions go unnoticed. His son had suffered severe trauma because of what happened, so I decided to report the incident to my acquaintance at the DSWD. I was doing this as a fellow woman who cared for the mother and her child. AN/ (DSWD stands for Department of Social Welfare and Development)

"Who did you talk to, Ara?" Tita Cecile asked as I put down my Android phone and closed the sliding window.

"My acquaintance from DSWD," I replied, glancing at the mother and child. "I invited her to come here. We're planning to file a case against the husband for violence against women and children."

Tita Cecile made a third cup of coffee. None of us could sleep after the incident. It was already four in the morning, and the woman sat on the sofa, still in a daze, her child asleep beside her.

"By the way, I'm Cecile, and this is Clara," Tita Cecile said, introducing me. "She's a psychologist. Maybe she can help you."

I sat on a nearby sofa while Tita Cecile sat beside the woman. We offered her coffee, which we placed on the coffee table.

"I'm Maya, and this is my son, Marco," she said in a low voice. She seemed calmer now. "I'm sorry for the trouble my husband and I caused."

"Maya, don't disregard what your husband did to you. Hurting you is a crime," I said firmly.

"We had an argument, but he didn't mean to slap me," Maya explained, avoiding eye contact. "This is the first time he's done this. He became aggressive when his head hurt suddenly."

Her voice was hoarse, and her eyes were swollen. I felt a deep sense of pity for her. No woman or mother should have to go through this. Her husband was irresponsible and arrogant. The fear on their faces was evident, even when I first saw them. I couldn't imagine how the child lived in constant fear.

"This morning, my acquaintance from DSWD will come here. We'll file a case against him for violence against women and children," I said.

Maya suddenly burst into tears. "Don't! Don't do that. I don't want my husband to go to jail. He didn't mean what happened earlier. He loves us so much, please! I'm begging you."

She buried her face in her hands, and Tita Cecile and I exchanged concerned glances.

"Why did you come here on the verge of insanity, pleading for our help, fearing your husband might kill you?" Tita Cecile asked, her tone shifting.

"Maya," I said gently but firmly, "What your husband did is not okay, even if he didn't mean to."

"He's sick. He didn't mean to do that. He's never laid a hand on me or our child before. He did this when he suffered severe headaches again."

I doubted her words, remembering how terrified she looked when I first saw her in the elevator. She was still protecting her husband, which often happens out of fear for the family's unity, for the sake of their child, love, and the bond they share.

"What about his illness?" I asked, noticing Tita Cecile's growing frustration.

"Oh, my goodness! You're a complicated person," Tita Cecile exclaimed, grabbing a tissue box and handing it to Maya.

Maya took a tissue and blew her nose. "It's hard to explain, so please don't sue him. My son and I need him. We love him very much."

I was at a loss for words while Tita Cecile scratched her head in frustration.

"Mom, why are you crying again?" the child asked, waking up and wrapping his tiny arms around his mother.

I struggled to find the right words to comfort them, feeling the irony of being a psychologist. Despite this, my decision remained unchanged.

I was deeply concerned for Maya. No woman should have to suffer like this. I no longer cared about the father. I gathered my courage, preparing myself for what I would do in the morning.

***

The gentle caress on my face slowly pulled me from my deep slumber. A wide smile spread across my face, but when I opened my eyes, it felt like a bucket of icy water poured over me. Hector sat beside me with a broad smile I had longed to see.

"Hector!" I blurted out, but he didn't respond.

He stood up and took a step away. When I sat up, I was surprised to find myself in that white room again.

Hector walked towards the white door and opened it. I hurriedly got up from the white bed to catch up with him. "Wait, Hector! Don't leave me."

He stepped out, and I ran to follow. When he closed the door, I opened it again. Foggy surroundings greeted me on the other side, leaving me puzzled. My heart raced, and I felt the urge to cry because I couldn't see him anymore, believing I might never see him again.

Suddenly, a burned man emerged from the thick fog and grabbed my left arm. He wrapped his burned arms tightly around my body. From sadness, I began to shiver with dread, and I screamed at the top of my lungs, the fear almost driving me mad. I shrieked and jerked back in shock.

Then I opened my eyes again. I saw myself sitting on a sofa, realizing the nightmare had returned. I couldn't believe I had fallen asleep in such a short time.

"Oh, you're already awake," Tita Cecile said.

I noticed a blanket wrapped around my body.

"Tita, what time is it?" I asked, trying to regain my senses.

"It's already eleven," she replied. "You know what? Maya and her son went back to their unit. Hans let them out unintentionally."

I removed the blanket and searched for my Android phone on the side table. Even though I still felt dizzy, I forced myself to check my text messages.

"Oh, Tita! Ma'am Yolly has been texting me since earlier," I said, panicking. I had five text messages and three missed calls. "She's from the DSWD. They're already downstairs. Can you come with me?"

"Then let's hurry up. Let's go down now!" exclaimed Tita Cecile, panicking like me.

I quickly went to the bathroom to wash my face, and then we hurriedly left the unit. Fortunately, the elevator was empty, so we could soon descend to the ground floor.

***

We ran through the main lobby toward the entrance of the building. I immediately spotted Ma'am Yolly talking to a security guard through the tall glass doors. She waved when she saw me, but my heart sank when I noticed the two police officers beside her. This was separate from our agreement, and there were even two police patrol cars in the driveway.

"Why are there police officers with her? Are they going to arrest the father?" Tita Cecile asked, clearly confused.

I scratched my head, feeling just as bewildered. "I don't know, Tita. We didn't agree to this, but we have to deal with it. Come on, we have no choice."

Tita Cecile looked worried, her brow furrowed. I began to doubt whether I had made the right decision. I took a deep breath and knew I had to follow the plan despite my reservations.