Chapter 22
It seemed fate refused to let my son and I have peace for long.
To be certain we weren't imagining the danger around us, the ladies decided we should invite Felipe over for dinner—to study him closely and find out whether he truly was someone we needed to fear. Kora was at his apartment when we called.
"Kora, could you and Felipe come over for dinner?" Indira asked politely over the phone.
Kora looked at him before nodding. She agreed.
None of us were in the mood to cook, so we ordered food instead. Too much food, if I was being honest. Mutton chops, chicken curry, rice, salmon, green salad—an entire feast laid across the dining table just so the man could have options and hopefully lower his guard.
But no amount of food could settle the uneasiness sitting in my chest.
I refused to put Jordan in harm's way, so I carried his plate upstairs to his room myself. Only after making sure he was comfortable did I return downstairs.
A few minutes later, the front door opened.
Kora entered first, Felipe behind her.
The moment he stepped inside, the energy in the house shifted.
We all sat down and began eating, pretending everything was normal.
"So, Felipe," Indira began casually, though there was calculation behind her smile, "tell us about yourself."
Felipe smiled faintly as he reached for the salad bowl. "There's not much to tell. I'm just a guy trying to survive in Singapore. Doing one or two things here and there to pay the bills."
"That's good," Lupita said carefully. "How long have you been here?"
"I moved to Singapore this year. I was living in Manila before that."
The answer came too smoothly. Too rehearsed.
"Where are you from, Felipe?" I finally asked.
For the first time that night, his eyes met mine directly.
A smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Around this planet."
A joke.
Another dodge.
The conversation continued, question after question thrown his way, yet every answer slipped through our fingers like smoke. He never gave anything direct. Never gave anything real.
And the more he avoided us, the more certain I became that something was terribly wrong with him.
Dinner finally ended, and Kora left with him.
The moment the front door closed, the masks dropped.
"Maybe you were wrong about him, Brandi," Marissa said while gathering plates from the table.
"I'm not sure," Indira muttered, tying her hair into a bun. "But something about that guy feels off. Didn't you notice the way he kept looking around the house?"
I stayed silent.
Because deep down… I had noticed far more than that.
I left the kitchen and walked to my room, shutting the door behind me. Pulling out my phone, I dialed Violet's number.
"Vy?"
"Yes, Brandi?" she answered quietly. Her voice still carried traces of hurt.
"Are you still angry at me?"
A pause.
"No. Why should I be?" she replied bitterly. "I'm used to being cut off. It doesn't surprise me anymore."
Her voice trembled slightly, like she was fighting tears.
Guilt twisted inside me. Violet had misunderstood everything. I pushed her away to protect her—not because I stopped loving her.
"No, Violet," I said quickly. "I didn't cut you off. Actually… it's because of the same reason I'm calling."
Silence filled the line.
"An unwanted guest showed up at the party," I continued carefully. "Luckily, he never saw you. That's why I told you to stay away. And because he didn't see you… you're the only person who can help me."
"With what?"
"I need Jordan to stay with you until all of this blows over."
Another silence.
"For how long?"
"As long as it takes."
I heard her exhale softly on the other side.
"Okay," she finally whispered. "Bring him to me. I'll wait for him."
The line went dead.
Now came the hardest part—telling Jordan.
The following day, Indira called him into the living room. We put on his favorite show, Young Sheldon, hoping it would relax him. The moment he saw it playing on the television, his face lit up and he rushed to sit down.
Indira smoothed her dress nervously before speaking.
"So, Jordan… you know none of us work normal jobs, right?"
He nodded slowly.
"Okay. Well… food, clothes, school—all of that costs money. And right now, things are becoming difficult for us."
It was a lie. But a necessary one.
Jordan's expression immediately fell. "Do I have to stop going to school?"
The fear in his voice nearly shattered me. His small fist clenched tightly as if preparing himself for disappointment.
"No, sweetheart," I quickly interrupted. "Mommy and the others just have to go to France for work for a little while."
He stared at us for a moment before speaking again.
"Well… if all of you are leaving, instead of sending me to boarding school… can I stay with Aunt Violet?"
The room fell silent.
That had gone far smoother than any of us expected.
Indira leaned back against the couch with relief. "We weren't thinking about it before, but now that you mention it… sure."
Jordan smiled faintly and returned his attention to the television, completely unaware that we were trying to save his life.
He was supposed to leave the following morning. Violet had already been informed.
Later that night, after packing his clothes, we all gathered in the living room saying our goodbyes early. The atmosphere felt heavy, though none of us admitted it aloud.
I stood near the window absentmindedly staring outside when something moved in the darkness.
Then I saw them.
Shadows.
Men.
Armed men silently surrounding the house.
My blood turned cold.
"Don't make a sound," I whispered sharply.
Every woman in the room froze instantly.
Jordan looked up in confusion, but I quickly signaled for him to hide. Luckily, the getaway room was only steps away. He slipped inside just before the hidden wall sealed shut, concealing the secret room perfectly. Beneath the tiled floor was enough space for four people to lie flat undetected.
We were trapped downstairs.
No weapons.
No time.
The men were already outside.
My mind raced desperately for a plan when suddenly the front door burst open.
Something metallic rolled across the floor.
Gas.
Smoke exploded into the room.
The last thing I saw was the thick white cloud swallowing the house while heavy footsteps echoed toward us.
Then darkness.
I don't know how long I was unconscious.
But when I finally opened my eyes again, we were on our knees before armed thugs.
My head pounded violently. My vision blurred.
Spanish voices filled the room around us.
And in that terrifying moment, only one thought consumed me:
Thank God Kora wasn't here.