The late afternoon sun cast a warm glow over the bustling city of Manila, but inside their small apartment, Justin and Alona felt a chill that had nothing to do with the weather. The silence in their home was heavy, punctuated only by the occasional sound of Alona’s quiet sobs.
Five years of marriage had passed since their wedding day, filled with laughter and promises, yet they found themselves trapped in a cycle of disappointment, haunted by the absence of a child.
“Justin, I just don’t understand why you’re so fixated on this,” Alona said, her voice trembling as she wiped her tears. “What makes you think going to San Elmo will change anything?”
Justin stood by the window, his back turned to her, staring out at the bustling streets below. His heart ached as he thought about his late parents, who had once filled their home with joy and laughter. Their memories were a bittersweet reminder of what they had lost—everything they had hoped to create together.
“I need to try, Alona,” he replied, his tone steady but strained. “My parents’ house is untouched, just waiting for us. Maybe being there, away from all this... pressure... will help us find clarity.”
“Clarity?” Alona echoed, her voice rising. “We’ve tried everything, Justin! Doctors, treatments, prayers! I can’t take another trip filled with empty hope. What if it doesn’t work? What if we come back even more miserable than we are now?”
Justin turned to face her, his expression a mix of frustration and desperation. “You think I want to keep going through this? You think I enjoy watching you suffer? It’s not just about you, Alona. It’s about us—our dreams! I thought you wanted this as much as I do.”
Alona’s heart sank at his words. They had shared dreams of parenthood, of laughter echoing through their home, of tiny hands grasping at their fingers. But the years had chipped away at their hope, leaving behind a gnawing despair that she struggled to bear.
“I do want it, Justin,” she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I want it more than anything. But maybe we need to accept that it might not happen for us.”
“No,” he said fiercely. “I refuse to accept that. I won’t give up on us, on our family. We can’t let this defeat us.”
Alona looked into his eyes and saw the determination burning there. She knew he was right in his own way, but the thought of returning to the very place where her husband had lost so much filled her with dread. “San Elmo... it holds so many memories. What if it just makes things worse?”
“Maybe facing those memories is what we need,” he said softly, stepping closer to her. “It’s where I grew up, where my parents loved me unconditionally. Maybe that love can help us heal.”
A heavy silence filled the room as Alona processed his words. Justin’s conviction was palpable, but her heart was heavy with fear and uncertainty. “And what if it doesn’t? What if we just go there and... nothing changes?”
“Then at least we’ll know we tried,” he said, taking her hands in his. “We owe it to ourselves to give it one last shot. Please, Alona. Let’s go to San Elmo together.”
She hesitated, looking down at their entwined fingers. The thought of being away from the city, the familiar routine, and the constant reminder of what they lacked both terrified and intrigued her. She took a deep breath, trying to quell the storm of emotions swirling within her.
“Alright,” she finally said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll go with you. But I need you to promise me something.”
“What is it?” he asked, relief washing over him.
“Promise me that if it doesn’t work out, we’ll find another way to cope. I can’t go through this heartbreak again.”
Justin nodded, his heart swelling with gratitude. “I promise, Alona. Whatever happens, we’ll face it together.”
Alona packed her suitcase during that evening with a heavy heart. The thought of returning to San Elmo stirred up memories of Justin’s childhood, the laughter of family gatherings, and the undeniable sorrow of loss. The idea of confronting the ghosts of his past made her stomach churn, but she pushed the feeling aside.
The following morning, they set off for San Elmo, the early rays of sunlight filtering through the clouds, casting a golden hue over the landscape.
Alona sat quietly in the passenger seat, her gaze fixed on the passing scenery. The city quickly gave way to sprawling fields and winding roads, the hustle and bustle of Manila fading into the background.
Justin drove with purpose, his mind racing with thoughts of what awaited them in the small town. He glanced over at Alona, her face pale and contemplative. “Are you alright?” he asked, concern etched on his features.
“I’m just... thinking,” she replied, forcing a smile. “About everything. The house, your parents. It’s just a lot to take in.”
He nodded, understanding the weight of her thoughts. “I know. Just remember, we’re in this together.”
They continued their journey, the lush green countryside enveloped them, creating an almost ethereal atmosphere. Yet, Alona felt a growing sense of unease, as if the very air around them was charged with unspoken tension.
It wasn’t long before they approached the outskirts of San Elmo, the familiar landscape stirring up memories in Justin’s mind.
“Look,” he said, pointing out the window. “That’s the old school I attended. I used to play there every afternoon with my friends.”
Alona forced a smile, but inside, she felt a heaviness settle over her heart. They finally reached the house—a modest two-story structure that had weathered time and nature. Vines climbed its walls, and the once vibrant paint was now faded and peeling, yet it held an undeniable charm.
The two stepped inside, the smell of dust and memories greeted them. The air was thick with nostalgia, and Justin closed his eyes for a moment, inhaling deeply. “This is it,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Welcome to my childhood home.”
Alona wandered through the living room, her fingers brushing against the furniture that had been carefully covered with sheets. The shadows of the past loomed large in every corner, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that they were intruding on something sacred.
“Justin,” she called softly. “Are you sure about this? What if it’s too much?”
He emerged from the kitchen, a determined look in his eyes. “I need this, Alona. I need to remember where I came from.”
She nodded, though doubt still nagged at her. As the sun dipped below the horizon, they set about unpacking their things, the silence between them thickening like the shadows gathering outside.
That night, Alona lay in bed, unable to shake the feeling of disquiet that enveloped her. Justin was asleep beside her, his face relaxed in slumber, but she stared at the ceiling, wide awake. The stillness of the house felt oppressive, as if it held its breath, waiting for something to happen.
As she closed her eyes, she began to hear the whispers—soft, almost imperceptible, like the rustling of leaves in the wind. They grew louder, echoing in her mind, tugging at her consciousness. It felt as if the house was alive, filled with stories waiting to be told.
Suddenly, a cry pierced through the stillness—a wail that sent chills down her spine. Alona shot up in bed, her heart racing. “Justin!” she whispered urgently, shaking him awake.
“What? What is it?” he mumbled, disoriented.
“Did you hear that? A baby... crying!”
Justin frowned, sitting up. “I didn’t hear anything. Are you sure you’re not dreaming?”
“No, I swear I heard it! It sounded so real!”
He rubbed his eyes and glanced around the dimly lit room. “Maybe it’s just the wind or some animal outside. We’re in the countryside, Alona.”
But deep down, Alona felt a knot of fear tighten in her stomach. “I don’t like this place, Justin. I feel... watched.”
“Come on,” he said, attempting to reassure her. “It’s just the house settling. Let’s try to get some sleep. We’ll figure everything out in the morning.”
Reluctantly, Alona lay back down, but sleep eluded her. She stared at the ceiling, her mind racing with thoughts of their journey, the weight of their struggles, and the whispers that seemed to swirl around her.
As dawn broke, casting soft light through the window, Alona finally succumbed to exhaustion. When she opened her eyes again, Justin was already awake, preparing breakfast in the kitchen.
“Did you sleep okay?” he asked, glancing over his shoulder.
“Not really,” she admitted, rubbing her eyes. “I kept hearing things.”
He frowned, concern flickering across his face. “What kind of things?”
“The cry of a baby. It sounded so real, Justin. I don’t know what to make of it.”
He set down the pan and turned to face her, his expression serious. “Maybe it’s just your mind playing tricks on you. This place must be bringing back a lot of memories.”