AUTHOR'S NOTE:
This chapter is dedicated to my dear friend, Maria Theresa "Matet" Mula, whose name graces the pages of this very novel as Mary Theresa "Ma Tet" Mula. She departed from this world on the night of February 9, 2025, at 9 PM, after bravely battling her illness.
It pains me to know that I never had the chance to share the conclusion of this story with her.
Rest in peace, my cherished friend. Your name and spirit will endure within these pages, immortalized in the world we created together. Thank you for allowing me to honor you in this way. You are deeply loved and will never be forgotten. I love you!
••••
“H-How is she—”
Theresa’s voice wavered, her disbelief evident in the tremble of her words.
Tomoya didn’t hesitate. In a swift movement, he stepped between her and Samantha, blocking her view as if shielding something fragile, something that shouldn’t exist.
But Theresa was quicker.
She sidestepped him, her eyes locking onto Samantha before widening in shock.
“D-Did you guys really open a portal…?” she whispered, the color draining from her face.
Her words sent a chill through the room.
Kathleen tensed beside Samantha, her fingers curling into fists. She darted forward, gripping Theresa’s arm with a careful but firm touch.
“Theresa,” Kathleen’s voice was soft but urgent. “Come inside.”
There was no resistance. Theresa allowed herself to be pulled in, her eyes never leaving Samantha, as if afraid that if she looked away, she would vanish.
Tomoya, still on edge, cast a quick glance over his shoulder before shutting the door. He lingered for a moment, scanning the dimly lit hallway, ensuring no unwanted eyes had witnessed the exchange. Then, with a quiet exhale, he locked it.
The click of the lock echoed in the heavy silence that followed.
And then—nothing.
No one moved. No one spoke.
Kathleen and Tomoya exchanged glances, silent questions darting between them. Theresa, however, stood frozen, staring at Samantha as if she were staring at a ghost.
Samantha swallowed hard. The weight of that gaze made her feel exposed, as if Theresa could see through her skin, past her bones, straight into something she herself didn’t understand.
The silence stretched, thick and suffocating, until finally, Samantha found her voice.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Theresa flinched, but she didn’t answer. Instead, her lips parted, but no words came out, only a breath—a breath laced with something unspoken. Dread. Uncertainty. Recognition.
Theresa’s silence stretched on, her lips pressing into a thin line as she glanced at Tomoya.
"Who is she?" Samantha finally asked, her voice firm despite the unease bubbling inside her.
Tomoya swallowed hard before gesturing toward Theresa. "T-This is Theresa," he introduced, but Samantha only furrowed her brows, a strange feeling creeping over her.
She opened her mouth to speak, but no words came. Something about this entire situation felt off—wrong, even.
Theresa, on the other hand, seemed just as unsettled. She hesitated before stammering, "S-She's Doctor Samantha, r-right?"
Samantha's gaze snapped toward her, sharp and searching. "Yes. Why?"
The way Theresa looked at her—fearful, uncertain, almost as if she had seen something she shouldn’t have—sent a shiver down Samantha’s spine.
Her heart pounded. Did Theresa know what happened? About what she did?
Finally, she straightened in her seat, her eyes narrowing as she stared at the three standing in front of her.
"Okay," she exhaled, "what’s really going on here? Why are you guys acting more anxious than me?"
Tomoya immediately forced a grin, a little too wide, a little too eager. "What do you mean? Theresa… uhm… she’s just surprised to see you here!"
Samantha's eyes darkened with suspicion. "Because what?!"
Tomoya’s brain worked at full speed. Then, he blurted out, "Because she’s jealous!"
The room fell into stunned silence.
Everyone turned to him. Theresa blinked. Kathleen’s jaw nearly dropped.
Tomoya, now fully committed to the ridiculous lie, started blinking wildly at Theresa and Kathleen, silently urging them to play along.
"Right, my love?" he added, flashing a desperate smile at Theresa.
Theresa looked like she had been struck by lightning. She opened her mouth—probably to protest—but Kathleen, catching on, quickly interrupted.
"Of course!" Kathleen forced out a laugh—loud, forced, and absolutely unconvincing. "Theresa, geez! You don’t have to be jealous! They didn’t really become lovers, ahaha!"
Theresa snapped her head toward Kathleen, eyes wide in sheer, unfiltered disbelief.
Samantha, watching all of this unfold, only grew more suspicious.
"Uh-huh." She crossed her arms. "And I’m supposed to believe this?"
Tomoya gulped.
Theresa, now fully exasperated, opened her mouth again, but before she could get a word out, Kathleen had already clung to her arm, but not to tight, so they wouldn't raise another suspicion.
"Takumi will join us later," Kathleen said, her voice light and reassuring, but Samantha wasn’t convinced. The forced calm in Kathleen’s tone made her stomach twist.
Everything felt off.
Samantha parted her lips, questions bubbling up inside her, but the weight in her chest made it impossible to speak. She only nodded.
Kathleen’s smile didn’t falter. "You rest there," she continued, leaning over to help Samantha settle back onto the couch. The touch was gentle, careful—as if Samantha might break if handled too roughly.
Once done, Kathleen lingered beside Theresa, her fingers tightening ever so slightly around the other woman’s wrist. "I'll just get Theresa something to drink, okay?"
Without waiting for a response, she dragged Theresa into Tomoya’s kitchen.
Samantha frowned.
That was wrong.
Kathleen wasn’t someone who acted close with just anyone, and the way she clung to Theresa like they were longtime friends—like she needed to control the situation—was enough to set off alarm bells in Samantha’s head.
Her eyes narrowed, tracking their movements as they whispered to each other behind the counter.
Something wasn't adding up.
Her gut twisted, suspicion crawling up her spine like a cold hand.
"Kathleen never acts close around anyone," she muttered, more to herself than to Tomoya.
She didn’t turn to look at him, but she felt him stiffen beside her.
Samantha exhaled slowly, her mind racing.
"On top of that," she continued, voice eerily steady, "I refuse to believe she knows that woman without me knowing."
She finally turned, eyes locking onto Tomoya’s. He flinched.
"And let’s say she is your girlfriend, like you and Kathleen are trying to make me believe..."
She let the sentence hang in the air, her gaze flickering back toward the kitchen.
Theresa’s shoulders—the slight, almost imperceptible flinch when Kathleen mentioned Takumi.
A reaction. A tell.
Samantha's stomach dropped.
"I believe..." she trailed off, voice dropping, "you guys have been lying to me."
Tomoya swallowed thickly, his discomfort clear. "Ahh, you mean to say Theresa likes nii-san more than—"
"Stop it!"
Her voice cracked through the air like thunder.
Kathleen and Theresa froze.
The tension in the room thickened, pressing against Samantha’s ribs like a vice.
"I'm not stupid, Tomoya!" she snapped, her fists clenching. Her gaze darted between them, sharp and unrelenting. "What are you guys hiding from me?"
No answer.
Not even an attempt at another lie.
A lump formed in Samantha’s throat. Her breaths came quicker, uneven. Her body felt wrong, her mind racing through a thousand possible explanations, each one worse than the last.
"N-Nothing makes sense!" she gasped, her voice cracking. "The way I woke up in Doctor Takahashi’s house, the way my body changed…"
She clutched at her arms, trembling.
"Then there’s Junel—suddenly friends with you and Doctor Takahashi like it’s the most natural thing in the world. And Scott—"
She sucked in a sharp breath, panic creeping into her voice.
"Scott…" Her eyes darted toward the door, desperate, searching.
He should’ve been here by now.
"W-Why isn’t he showing up yet?" she whispered, more to herself than anyone else.
Scott wouldn’t just disappear. He wouldn’t leave her alone like this—not without a word.
He couldn’t.
Her chest heaved, her pulse pounding in her ears.
"He can’t be out all day without talking to me," she gasped. He never does that.
Silence.
A horrible, suffocating silence.
Her blood ran cold.
She turned back to Kathleen, to Tomoya, to Theresa—their faces told her everything.
They knew something.
Something they weren’t telling her.
And suddenly, Samantha wasn’t sure she wanted to hear the truth.