Ruth locked herself in her room, unable to accept what was happening to her. She hadn't spoken to her parents yet.
"Chesca. I am Chesca Daia Fuego. I'm not Ruth Dionson."
She let out a trembling sigh as the truth sank in. The purpose of the medicine had been to erase her memory.
Tears streamed down her face. She felt like she had been deceiving herself this whole time. But now things were starting to make sense—why she could feel the presence of her two siblings even after death. It had all been done for her safety.
"Brother Giovane has seen me," she whispered, her hands suddenly shaking.
She had to find Mikaela. She needed to talk to her cousin.
She admitted it to herself—there was a part of her that felt thrilled pretending to be Ruth. Chesca let out a cynical laugh. But now, it was time to face the truth. She had to speak with her cousin Jake.
She also realized that what she felt for that teacher wasn't real affection—just a deep emotional connection born from a wounded heart.
"Be strong, Chesca. You need to be strong," she told herself.
In Ruth, she had found a true friend—someone who genuinely cared for her.
"Thalia…" she murmured the name thoughtfully.
"Will she believe that I am a Fuego? A sister to the two girls who were murdered?"
Chesca smiled bitterly at the thought. Her mind was chaotic, overwhelmed by memories flooding back in. But she believed these memories would guide her to justice—for her two sisters.
Even if they were just her half-sisters, she never felt any resentment. Ellese and Felisa had accepted her completely. They treated her like a true older sister.
She reached for her phone but paused when someone knocked on her bedroom door. Slowly, she opened it.
Standing there were the couple who had raised her—her adoptive mother and father. They looked concerned, but relieved.
"Do you remember who you are now?" the man asked softly.
She no longer had a reason to lie. She simply nodded.
"I see," he said quietly.
Mrs. Dionson immediately pulled her into a tight embrace.
"I'm so sorry," she said with tears in her eyes. "If we had told you everything from the beginning, you would've been in danger. We just wanted to protect you from that man."
"I understand," Chesca replied gently.
"You need to speak with your cousin," her adoptive father added.
Chesca nodded once more.
"I'll go. I need to talk to Mikaela."
"Be careful," her mother warned. "No one must see you. You have to leave now."
Before she could process it, they were already guiding her to the garage. A driver was waiting. She hadn't even changed—she was still in her pajamas, with only her phone in hand.
Her adoptive parents gave her one last hug before she got into the car. She could see the sadness in their eyes, and she swallowed the lump in her throat as she turned away.
She looked back at the mansion through the window. Anxiety crept up her chest. A sinking feeling whispered that this might be the last time she'd see it.
Will something happen? she wondered.
The car sped off quickly, urgency in every turn. Her heart pounded.
What's happening? What's going on? she asked herself, gripping her phone tightly. She wanted to talk to Thalia.
"Driver? Driver?" she called out.
He didn't answer—he just met her gaze through the side mirror. His silence unsettled her.
She tried to calm herself. Maybe it's just anxiety from all the memories flooding back. Her head throbbed suddenly. Dizziness overcame her.
When she opened her eyes, she was no longer inside the car.
She was standing in front of the Fuego mansion.
She blinked in disbelief. The house where she was born loomed before her—the place that held both joy and suffering, where her mother died.
Then a shadow emerged.
Her breath caught in her throat as she recognized him—her biological father, Don Bernard Dante Fuego. Their eyes met, though he didn't seem to see her. He was looking elsewhere.
"Where are your four siblings, Giovane?" he asked.
She turned and saw the boy. Giovane. He looked only about fourteen.
"They're in their favorite place," he answered casually.
Don Bernard didn't respond. He walked past the boy, and Chesca instinctively followed. She knew where he was headed.
The basement, she realized with dread.
That memory—she remembered it now. She and her siblings had been locked there because of her sin.
Her father opened the basement door. Chesca saw her eight-year-old self curled in the corner. It was right after her mother had died.
She was pulled into that moment, embodying her younger self. Felisa hugged her protectively, sheltering her in her arms.
"I hope you've learned from your sins," her father said coldly.
He went around to each child, forcing them to reflect.
She couldn't meet anyone's gaze. Their father's wrath haunted them all. No one dared speak. To talk back would mean suffering.
Chesca jolted awake. She had dozed off.
She was back in the car.
They were now parked in front of her cousin's mansion.
"Ma'am, we're here," said the driver.
She nodded. Before stepping out, she scanned the estate. Her cousin Mikaela lived here.
A man greeted her at the gate.
"Your cousin is waiting for you, Chesca," he said gently.
She got out and thanked the driver. He gave a small nod in return.
"Do you remember everything now, Chesca?" the man asked as they walked.
She recognized him. She didn't speak, only nodded.