Christmas Eve. One Serendra, Unit 18-B.
By late afternoon, the condo felt alive.
Boxes were stacked near the living room wall—one tall carton marked "TREE," two flatter boxes of lights, and several bags of ornaments Angela had picked. The balcony curtains were drawn back, letting the sunset wash the room in orange. Bonifacio Global City's skyline glowed outside like it was dressed up for the night too.
"Brother, can we start?" Angela bounced on her toes, already tugging at the tape on the big box.
Timothy smiled. "Go ahead. I'll help you lift it out."
Evelyn poked her head out from the kitchen, a wooden spoon in hand. "Careful with the floor, ha. And don't block the hallway. I still need to pass with the plates."
