Andi woke up early.
The sun had not yet fully risen, but she was already busy in the kitchen, wearing a simple apron as she prepared the food. Beside her was Alonzo—quiet but always smiling—holding a tray of freshly cooked dishes.
"Are you sure this is okay, babe?" Alonzo asked as he handed over the spoons.
"Hmm." Andi nodded, arranging the table. "Everything has to look perfect. This is for Bella."
"It's for you too," Alonzo teased. "You deserve to see something happy again."
Andi looked at him — tired, but her eyes were bright. It had been a long time since the house had felt this happy.
Outside, the caterers and decorators had arrived early. In every corner of the garden hung white curtains, vines, and garlands of real flowers — daisies, carnations, and pink roses. The whole place smelled like morning — smelled like new hope.
By ten o'clock, the guests began to arrive.
At first, they came one by one. Then by groups. Until, all at once, they were walking through the old gate of the Navarro residence.
Their first reaction was silence — but their faces said it all: awe.
"Wow…" one whispered.
"The gate's huge!"
"It looks like a museum!"
"No, more like one of those old Spanish-era mansions!"
The gate itself was wrought iron, intricately carved and covered in crawling vines. As they entered, they were greeted by a cobblestone path, old lamp posts, and a garden that looked like it belonged in a classic film.
When they reached the front of the house, they all stopped at once — mouths agape.
The Navarro house looked as if it had been taken straight from the time of the ilustrados — capiz shell windows, a carved balcony, and polished wooden doors gleaming in the sunlight. Bella's classmates began taking selfies and videos, unable to believe their eyes.
"Dude, this looks like the set of Maria Clara at Ibarra!"
"Bro, it's beautiful! Can we have a field trip here?"
"Wow, I didn't know Bella lived in a house like this!"
Before their amazement could last any longer, the grand door opened —
And out came Andi.
She was wearing a plain pink shirt tucked into a long skirt embroidered with flowers at the hem. Simple, but on her, it looked elegant. Her face was fresh, natural — as if she hadn't been up preparing since dawn. Her hair was braided neatly, a few strands brushing her cheeks.
"Welcome, everyone!" She called out, her voice smooth and calm, clear as glass if heard up close. She had that quiet poise of actresses in historical films — graceful, dignified, but not intimidating; captivating.
For a moment, the crowd fell silent — almost entranced — and then they smiled all at once.
"She's so beautiful…" one whispered.
"Like Maria Clara, I swear!"
"Her voice is so gentle!"
Andi only smiled, then gestured toward the garden. "Let's go to the back, so it's not too hot. Please, make yourselves at home."
When they reached the garden, the guests didn't know where to look first. The lawn stretched wide, filled with white tables and chairs, hanging flowers, and pastel ribbons. At the center was a grand dessert table straight out of a fairy tale — pink and white cakes, cupcakes topped with edible petals, and glasses of lemonade with floating blossoms.
"This is amazing…" Bella's adviser said. "Andi, you did such a wonderful job. Everything looks beautiful."
Andi smiled. "Thank you, Ma'am. It's simple, really. This is all for Bella."
And right then, Bella appeared — wearing a floral dress with a tiny flower crown on her head. The moment her classmates saw her, they all cheered, "Happy Birthday, Bella!"
Bella laughed, blushing. "Thank you! Welcome to our home!"
Andi hugged her from behind, whispering softly, "Enjoy your day, Bells. You deserve this."
As the children laughed and played in the garden, Andi glanced toward Alonzo, who was busy setting up the drinks. He smiled back, raising a glass as if to say, We made it.
And at the far end, under the shade of an old tree, stood Gesly. Quiet, just watching. No expression on her face — but there was a strange depth in her gaze.
She swallowed hard as she looked at her classmates taking pictures, laughing, admiring the place. She couldn't explain why she suddenly felt a tightness in her chest. Not jealousy, not anger — but something closer to fear.
Fear that they might all get used to this happiness. Fear that she wouldn't be able to protect it when the darkness returned.
She took a deep breath. And for the first time, she smiled — even if just a little.
For Bella. For Andi. For this day — when, even for a moment, there was no chaos. Only flowers.
As laughter and music filled the wide garden, the guests — classmates, parents, and some of Bella's teachers — mingled freely. The sun was warm but the breeze was gentle; colorful buntings and flowers shimmered with every gust of wind.
But amidst all the joy, Bella could also feel a faint shyness from her classmates — many of whom had never stepped inside a house like this before.
"It's really beautiful, huh?" One of her classmates said softly, half in awe, half uncertain, holding a glass of juice.
"Like something out of a TV drama," another replied, also shyly. "But… it's kind of embarrassing. Look at these things. I might break something."
Some of the kids kept their heads down, unsure where to sit. Others just shrugged and quietly ate their spaghetti in the corner.
Not because they weren't happy — but because they felt self-conscious. They didn't know how to act in such a luxurious place. This wasn't like the barangay parties with karaoke, plastic chairs, and traditional games.
This felt more like a garden party in Tagaytay — but right inside their classmate's home.
But Andi seemed heaven-sent to melt away everyone's awkwardness.
As she walked among the guests carrying a basket of cupcakes, she smiled at each group. "Please eat a lot, okay? Don't be shy — there's plenty more."
The kids smiled, though some still hesitated.
Then one of the mothers approached her and said, "Ma'am Andi, we'll help wash the dishes, it's embarrassing to just sit around—"
Andi immediately shook her head. "Oh, no need, please. Just enjoy. I already have people to handle that."
"But your house is so beautiful, we feel embarrassed…"
Andi smiled gently. "There's nothing to be embarrassed about, 'Nay. As long as Bella's happy, that's all that matters."
And just like that, the tension melted away.
That was when everyone saw why people admired her so much — not just because she was beautiful or well-off, but because she was easy to be around.
While the children sang and played, a few of the parents gathered at a table off to the side. They watched the three siblings — Bella, laughing with her classmates; Gesly, quiet but always watchful; and Andi, tirelessly taking care of everyone.
"Wow," one father said, looking at Andi.
"She's not just beautiful — she's kind too."
"And she has such a presence. You don't even feel like she's different, even though it's obvious their family's well-off."
One mother nodded. "You know, the adviser said their parents passed away already." The group fell silent. "That's why Andi's their guardian. Maybe that's why she's like that — calm but strong."
"A true Filipina woman," another added with a smile. "Not just in looks, but in heart."
At another table, Bella's adviser was also speaking with some parents. "That's why I admire her so much. All the values we try to teach at school — I see them in Andi. Polite, respectful, a good listener. Even though you know they're well-off, you never feel she looks down on anyone."
They glanced toward Andi, who was kneeling, gently wiping cake off Bella's mouth. That simple scene — no makeup, no pretense, just a sister's tender care — was an image none of them would forget.