Chapter XLV: Cover
January 23 arrives, marking the feast day of Bantaoan. The town bustles with excitement, but for Liz, it is just another school day. As she descends the stairs, the scent of freshly brewed coffee lingers in the air, mingling with the distant sounds of festivities beginning outside.
Just as she reaches the last step, she overhears Dolores and Dominga speaking in hushed tones with her grandmother.
"I saw him," Dominga says, her voice trembling. "Bennett was in my dream. He spoke to us."
Liz freezes, her fingers tightening around the banister. Her grandmother's voice, thick with emotion, follows.
"Even though he's missing, he's reaching out," she says with a mixture of sorrow and joy. "He is with us in spirit."
Liz exhales, realization dawning upon her. That must have been where Bennett disappeared to before reappearing in her own dream. The thought lingers in her mind as she joins them for breakfast, her spoon stirring absentmindedly through her bowl of rice and eggs.
Once their meal is finished, she and her grandmother leave for school. The walk to Colegio de San Agustin is brisk, the air still cool from the morning breeze. Upon arriving, Liz spots Wyn already waiting near the gate.
"You ready?" Liz asks, lowering her voice. "And is Adrian good to go?"
Wyn nods. "Yeah. He's been preparing since yesterday. We just have to be extra careful."
Satisfied with the response, Liz turns her attention to her morning classes, though her mind remains preoccupied with the plan for the night. Once their morning session ends, the students are permitted to leave campus for lunch. Liz and Wyn make their way to the town plaza, where Adrian waits for them at one of the outdoor tables.
As soon as they settle down, Adrian slides a rolled-up sheet of paper across the table. "This is the blueprint," he says, lowering his voice. "Bennett designed it himself. No one else can see it—this was meant for his eyes only."
Liz carefully unfolds the document, her eyes scanning the precise lines and annotations. It is a layout of the house, marking key points of entry and areas of concern. Adrian continues explaining the plan.
"Tonight is the perfect time. The fiesta at the Poblacion means the house will be empty. Dolores, Dominga, and your grandma will be out late, leaving you alone," he states. "That's our window."
Wyn furrows her brows. "And who's keeping watch?"
"I'll be at Point B. You'll take Point A," Adrian replies. "That way, we're covered from all angles."
With the strategy in place, they finish their meal and part ways. Liz and Wyn return to their classes, while Adrian heads back to his own school. The afternoon passes in a blur, and soon, the final bell rings.
As they step out of the campus, Liz turns to Wyn. "Before we do anything, let's go to the adoration chapel."
Wyn nods in agreement, and the two make their way to the cathedral. The chapel is quiet, illuminated only by the warm glow of candlelight. As Liz steps inside, an overwhelming sense of nostalgia washes over her.
A vision flashes before her eyes—Bennett kneeling before the altar, his shoulders trembling as silent tears fall. She remembers how she used to treat him, how she took his patience for granted. He had come here often, seeking solace, perhaps even praying for her to change.
Her breath hitches. She steps forward, approaching the altar with heavy steps. Kneeling before it, she clasps her hands together, pressing them against her forehead.
"Lord, I know I was blind before," she whispers. "I never saw how much pain I put Bennett through. I was selfish, arrogant, and cruel, and yet he never turned away from me. He loved me, even when I didn't deserve it."
Tears well in her eyes. The chapel remains silent, save for the distant echoes of the choir rehearsing hymns in the main hall.
"I don't know if I'll ever get to see him again," she continues. "But please, keep him safe, wherever he is. Protect Adrian and Wyn tonight, and if you will it, let me find the answers I've been searching for."
A tear escapes down her cheek as she adds, "And if Bennett can hear me… tell him I'm sorry."
A soft breeze passes through the chapel, making the candles flicker. Liz inhales sharply, as if feeling an unseen presence reassuring her. She rises, wiping her tears.
Wyn, who had been waiting near the door, approaches her. "Are you okay?"
Liz nods. "I just needed to do that."
They step out into the evening air, the sky already tinged with shades of amber and violet. As they part ways for now, Liz instructs Wyn, "Call me at nine. That's when we move."
Wyn gives a firm nod before disappearing down the street. Liz, on the other hand, walks home, preparing herself for what is to come.
At six in the evening, Dolores, Dominga, and her grandmother prepare to leave for the Poblacion. The house is lively with their chatter as they gather their belongings.
"Liz, you'll be in charge while we're gone," her grandmother reminds her. "Make sure to lock the doors, and don't stay up too late."
Liz nods, feigning an obedient smile. "I will."
As soon as the front door clicks shut behind them, the house falls into an eerie silence. Liz stands in the middle of the living room, the weight of the night's plan settling in.
Her phone buzzes. She checks the screen—Wyn.
"We're ready," Wyn's voice says.
Liz exhales, gripping the phone tightly. "Let's do this."
Adrian checks the time on his watch. 9:45 PM.
With a deep breath, he starts his electric bike, the quiet hum barely noticeable against the distant sounds of the fiesta in Poblacion Bantaoan, though he doesn't passes through there since the Poblacion is bounded by a river wherein the river is before Liz's house. He speeds toward Liz's house, the streets dimly lit by old streetlights flickering under the night sky. As he reaches her gate, Liz steps out, dressed in all black, her bag slung over her shoulder. Without a word, she hops onto the bike behind him, gripping his shoulders as he accelerates toward Ciudad Fernandina to pick up Wyn.
Wyn is already outside when they arrive, adjusting the straps of her dark hoodie. She nods at them, slipping onto the bike without hesitation. The trio weaves through the city's back roads, taking the long route through Poblacion Esperanza to avoid drawing attention. The golden arch of Esperanza looms ahead, marking the boundary between the town and the isolated area where Bennett's house stands. They park the bike a safe distance away and walk the rest of the way on foot, sticking to the shadows.
The town is eerily silent. Not a single vehicle passes by, no distant chatter or barking dogs—just the soft rustling of leaves. It's peaceful, yet unsettling. Just as they reach Bennett's house, a loud burst of music erupts from a nearby home. A karaoke machine blares an off-key rendition of an old love song, disrupting the quiet night.
Adrian smirks. "Perfect distraction."
Wyn and Liz exchange glances before nodding. Cloaked in darkness, they move swiftly, unseen by anyone preoccupied with the music.
Wyn splits off to Point A—the downstairs outside corner, where she will keep watch. Adrian follows Liz to the side of the house, boosting her up toward the sliding window. With practiced ease, Liz pulls out a card from her bag, slipping it into the thin gap between the panes. She wiggles it carefully, her hands steady despite the tension in her chest. A soft click echoes in the night. The lock is busted.
Adrian steps back to Point B, directly in front of the window, keeping an eye out for any disturbances. Liz steadies herself and climbs inside, her heart pounding against her ribs.
Meanwhile, in Poblacion Bantaoan, Dolores, Dominga, and Liz's grandma sit in the pews of St. Ildephonse Parish Church. The air is thick with the scent of incense, the flickering candlelight casting a warm glow over the congregation. The priest stands at the pulpit, his voice calm yet powerful as he delivers the homily.
"To love is to be humble. It is to understand that love is not about possession, nor about demanding something in return. It is about selflessness, about giving even when it is not deserved, about sacrificing even when no one sees."
Liz's grandma listens intently, hands clasped together. Her mind drifts to her granddaughter, wondering what she is doing at this very moment. She hopes Liz is safe, that she is not lonely in the house. A part of her aches, wishing Bennett were still around, wishing things had turned out differently.
The priest continues, his voice resonating through the church. "Love, in its purest form, does not seek recognition. It does not boast, nor does it hold grudges. Love forgives. Love endures. And in our most desperate moments, when we feel abandoned and lost, it is love that reminds us we are never truly alone."
A tear slips down Liz's grandma's cheek. She closes her eyes and prays for Liz's happiness, for Bennett's safety—wherever he may be.
Back at Bennett's house, Liz stands in the darkness. The air inside is heavy, almost suffocating. She reaches into her bag and pulls out the purple vigil candle, striking a match against the box. The small flame flickers before catching onto the wick, casting a dim glow around the room.
As the light spreads, a chill runs down her spine.
A dark figure emerges from behind her.