The night before, Imelda was taking a shower while Willow, her roommate, was sitting on her bed talking to someone on the telemirror.
"Sorry, Sir. I know I shouldn't have answered her telemirror..."
"It's okay. You're Willow, right? Allan's daughter?" The voice of an older man said.
"Y-Yes... I'm her roommate." Willow said with a hint of embarrassment in her voice. "Let me knock on the door so she'll know—"
The bathroom door opened then Imelda, wearing only but a white towel made of cotton, emerged.
"Oh, here she is." She covered the mirror with her hand. "Imelda, I think it's your father..." she whispered then handed the telemirror to Imelda.
Imelda dried her hands with the towel wrapped around her torso then took the golden hand mirror from Willow.
"There you are..." The man in the reflection said. He had short black hair with a hint of gray. His black mustache almost covered his mouth. "Did she tell you that it was your father?"
"Y-Yes, Uncle."
Imelda's uncle laughed but then his laughter gradually turned into an awkward silence.
Imelda walked to her bed with the telemirror in hand. "Is there something you need from me, Uncle Pablo?" She said as she sat down.
"I just... I just wanted to know how your first day of school was. Nothing else, sweetheart." Pablo replied with reservation in his voice.
"Something tells me that my favorite uncle is lying to me." She said playfully. "Your voice changes when you lie, I know it." She put the telemirror on her bed and leaned it against her pillow to secure it from falling over. "Stay there, Uncle. The wind is cold, I better put something on."
"Okay. I'll look away."
"No need," she stood up and walked her way to the wardrobe. "You can't see me anyway from that angle." She chuckled.
"I'll wait for you downstairs," Willow said who was already standing by the door. "There's a nice restaurant by the marketplace that I want to show you."
"Thank you!" She mouthed.
"I think I know where she's taking you. You'll love the noodles they serve there." Pablo said after Willow closed the door.
"I know why you called, Uncle." Her voice suddenly changed as she stared at the picture of her parents stuck on the inside of the wardrobe door. "It's my parents' death anniversary, isn't it?"
"Sorry... I know you'd remember it without me reminding you. I just miss you."
"I miss you too, Uncle."
Pablo paused. "The girl... wait... Jane, right? Yes, how's Jane doing—"
Imelda, who had still nothing on but her towel, closed the wardrobe door. "She survived my outburst, Uncle. Unlike my parents... they... they—"
"Milly..."
"It was all my fault! It was all my fault, Uncle. I have no control over my—"
"Milly, listen to me. You were just a child! It wasn't your fault! Stop saying that, Milly!" Pablo's voice started to rise.
"Imelda, Uncle... I'm not a child anymore. Call me Imelda... please."
"Sorry, Imelda... I just... I just miss you so much. Then when I heard what had happened in Pesca Village, I can't stop worrying about you."
![](https://img.wattpad.com/cover/347359720-288-k154284.jpg)
YOU ARE READING
BALETE CHRONICLES
FantasyHanz, an introverted aswang, returns to Balete City only to learn that the Tree that provides life to all Tree Dwellers is consuming Fear Energy at an alarmingly fast rate. If the tree runs out of it, it could mean the demise of all Tree Dwellers. ...