The garden felt different this day—too quiet, too still. I sat beneath the acacia tree, legs folded beneath me, hoping na bigla siyang lilitaw out of nowhere, like she always did—bringing life into this quiet place. But the minutes stretched, the breeze losing its usual warmth, and everything just felt... off. The garden was still beautiful, pero parang kulang. Parang wala iyong tamang timpla ng hangin at saya—wala si Yohana.
The breeze carried the faint scent of flowers, but it couldn’t ease the tension building in my chest. I glanced at the gate for the fifth—no, sixth time, hoping that a familiar figure would come strolling in, her playful grin tugging at the corners of her lips like always.
But Yohana didn’t show up.
"Late lang siguro," I whispered to myself, brushing off the unease. But the words tasted fake.
I tried to tell myself not to panic. Maybe she just got caught up somewhere—maybe she overslept, lost track of time, or had errands to run.
That was Yohana, after all, unpredictable, always moving with the wind, doing things her own way. Yet, as the minutes stretched into hours, the knot in my stomach tightened. I checked the time again. 4:37 PM. Kanina pa dapat s’ya nandito.
I kicked a stray pebble near my foot, frustration bubbling beneath the surface. Wala akong kahit anong paraan para hanapin siya—no phone number, no address, no social media. Everything between us had only existed here, in this garden—a small, perfect world that belonged to just the two of us. And now, wala si Yohana, the garden felt... off, like a song missing its rhythm.
I tried not to think about the worst-case scenarios. Baka nga may ginagawa lang s’ya. She’d tell me eventually, right?
I reminded myself of her easy smiles, her way of brushing off worries as if they didn’t matter. But the unease lingered, gnawing at the edges of my mind. I hugged my knees closer to my chest, hoping—praying—she’d walk through that gate any second.
Pero wala parin.
As the sun began to dip lower in the sky, casting a golden glow across the garden, I stood and paced around aimlessly. The sound of dried leaves crunching under my shoes filled the silence. Malamang may rason kung bakit wala s’ya ngayon. Maybe something happened, something urgent.
I walked toward the cluster of sunflowers Yohana had planted weeks ago—bright, happy things that seemed to bloom just for her. I stared at them, trying to find some kind of comfort in their vibrant yellow petals, when something caught my eye, isang envelope, carefully tucked beneath one of the pots.
Bigla akong kinabahan. I knelt down and picked it up, hands trembling slightly. On the front, in Yohana’s familiar, slanted handwriting, was my name.
Faylene.
The world felt like it tilted for a second, a rush of relief mixed with confusion flooding my chest. I ripped the envelope open and pulled out the letter inside, the paper folded neatly, as if Yohana had taken her time writing it.
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