Chapter 11: Reunion

Chapter 11 - 11: ReunionThe night sky stretched endlessly above them, a deep velvet expanse littered with stars. The cool evening breeze carried the faint scent of freshly cut grass and the distant aroma of burning charcoal from some unseen worker's late-night cigarette. The Suzuki multicab rumbled to a stop in front of a massive wrought iron gate, its metal bars tall and sturdy, casting long shadows under the yellow glow of the overhead lamps.

Jack stirred first, blinking away sleep before nudging Anita and Richard awake. "We're here," he murmured, his voice groggy.

Richard rubbed his eyes, his gaze adjusting to the grand sight before him. Beyond the gate, past a winding path, stood a mansion perched atop a small hill. Its silhouette loomed against the moonlit sky, a structure of old-world charm mixed with modern touches. Warm lights glowed from its many windows, while the outline of a wraparound balcony hinted at the wealth of the family that lived within.

Anita stretched, looking out with a small smile. "For a long time, the house hasn't changed," she said softly. "Except for the gate—it used to be farther in. Now it's right by the road."

Richard took in the view, noting the sheer size of the property. Lined up neatly beyond the entrance were several eight-wheeler trucks and frozen panel trucks, their massive forms resting in stillness like sleeping beasts. The yard, illuminated by industrial floodlights, revealed a network of dirt roads leading to different parts of the estate.

Ronnie stepped out first, adjusting his cap before approaching the guardhouse. He exchanged a few words with the sentry, who nodded and pressed a button, triggering the mechanical hum of the gate sliding open.

"Alright, let's go," Ronnie said, waving them through.

Jack and Anita grabbed their bags, stepping out of the vehicle. Richard followed suit, slinging his backpack over one shoulder as his feet met the packed dirt. The air smelled richer here—earthy, with a faint whiff of the sea carried from some unseen shore.

They walked up the sloping pathway, their steps crunching softly against the gravel. As they moved, Richard's eyes wandered over the scene around him.

To the side, near a long, low-slung dormitory-style building, a group of workers sat in clusters. Some were sprawled on makeshift benches, their heads tilted back in exhausted sleep. Others smoked near the walls, the tips of their cigarettes glowing like tiny fireflies in the dark. Their clothes—plain, practical, and worn from labor—marked them as the backbone of whatever operation ran here.

As they passed, a few of the men looked up and recognized Ronnie.



"Boss Ronnie!" one of them called out, a grin splitting his face.

"Boss, you're back late!" another chuckled, exhaling a stream of smoke.

Ronnie waved them off with a good-natured smirk. "Late? You bastards are still awake! What are you up to?"

A wiry man with sun-darkened skin, his hat tilted over his eyes, shrugged. "Gusto mo ng serbesa, boss?" (Want a beer, boss?) He lifted a bottle as proof.

Ronnie scoffed. "Tsk, you lot are drinking again."

The men laughed. Despite calling him "boss," it was clear there was little formality between them. Richard watched as Ronnie easily blended in, exchanging lighthearted jabs and playful insults. Unlike a strict overseer, he felt more like an older brother to these workers—respected, but approachable.

Jack nudged Richard. "You'd think he was just one of my grandpa's workers. In fact he's been here for 15 years and despite being grandpa's executives, he's still very down to earth."

Richard smirked. "Yeah, but he seems to fit right in."

Ronnie turned back to the group, shaking his head. "Alright, enough chitchat. Get some damn sleep. We've got another long day tomorrow."

The workers groaned in protest, but a few started to shuffle back inside the dormitory, stubbing out their cigarettes on the walls.

As they walked up the stairs leading to the mansion, the scene shifted dramatically. The rugged path of dirt and gravel gave way to an immaculately landscaped garden. The soft, well-manicured grass stretched out in perfect symmetry, dotted with vibrant flower beds of roses, orchids, and bougainvillea. A grand water fountain stood at the center of the courtyard, its cascading water illuminated by hidden lights, creating a mesmerizing glow that danced against the night.

Despite the mansion's sheer size and width, its modern architectural touches blended seamlessly with classic elegance. Smooth stone columns framed the wide veranda, large glass windows reflected the garden lights, and the expansive balcony hinted at luxurious spaces beyond. Even the pathway leading to the main doors was lined with ornate lamp posts, casting a warm, inviting glow.

Richard couldn't help but slow his steps, his eyes sweeping across the grandeur before him. It wasn't just big—it was impressive, the kind of place you'd expect in movies or high-end magazines.

Jack, noticing Richard's expression, smirked. "Wonderful, isn't it?"

Richard, still in awe, nodded. "Yeah... Your grandpa really didn't hold back."

Jack let out a chuckle. "Actually, this house has been around for over 50 years."

He pulled out his phone and tapped through a few pictures before showing Richard a black-and-white retro image of the mansion. The core structure remained the same, but the landscaping was different, the design simpler. The gate, once positioned at the bottom of the hill, was now further down, near the road. Over time, the house had evolved, adopting modern enhancements without losing its original identity.

Richard stared at the old photo, shaking his head in disbelief. "Damn, I didn't know it was that old already."

Jack shrugged. "Yeah, grandpa always believed in preserving the foundation. He didn't want to tear it down—just improve it."



Richard handed back the phone and looked up at the house once more, the sheer weight of its history settling in. This wasn't just a place to live—it was a legacy, one that had stood the test of time.

The grand wooden doors of the mansion creaked open, revealing an elderly man standing in the doorway. He was tall and thin, his white beard neatly trimmed, and he wore a white taqiyah cap, a sign of his Muslim faith. Even from a distance, his warm smile was unmistakable, a genuine expression of joy that radiated as they approached.

With open arms, he stepped forward and immediately pulled Anita into a tight embrace.

"Annie!" he called out, his voice thick with emotion. "Oh, how glad I am to see you! It's been what... 22 years?"

Anita smiled, her eyes glistening slightly. "25 years, Uncle," she corrected softly.

Estello chuckled, shaking his head. "Back then, you were so small. I remember visiting your home, and you had a snout full of snot while begging me for chocolates!" He laughed heartily, the memory still vivid in his mind.


Anita giggled, shaking her head. "And back then, Uncle, your hands always smelled like fish when you pinched my cheeks!"

Estello threw his head back in laughter. "Those were the best days of my life! Going out to sea, fishing for hours... nothing like it."

His gaze shifted to Jack, and his expression softened even more.

"Jackie boy!" he exclaimed, pulling his grandson into a tight hug before pinching his cheeks.

Jack flinched. "Stop, Grandpa!" he protested, pushing his hand away, his face red with embarrassment. "You're embarrassing me!"

Estello only laughed harder, placing a firm hand on Jack's shoulder. "Ahh, I see my Jackie boy has become a man." He smirked. "Not until you have a wife of your own, shall I ever call you a man!" He let out a booming laugh.

Jack groaned. "Grandpa..."

Estello finally turned to Richard, scanning him up and down before nodding in approval. "Oho... so you are Annie's little boy." His eyes twinkled with amusement. "Unlike Jackie here, you actually look like a man."

Jack scoffed. "Oh, come on!"

Estello ignored him, his gaze settling on Richard with a mix of curiosity and nostalgia. "You remind me of the bastard who took my Annie away."

Anita let out a small sigh. "Ahh, stop that, Uncle. That was a long time ago."

Estello shrugged, unbothered. "Indeed. Where's that bastard now, anyway?"

Anita hesitated for a moment before answering, "He passed away five years ago."

Estello's smile faltered slightly, his brows raising in mild surprise. "Hah. Really now?" He scratched his beard. "And what was the reason?"



Richard spoke up. "He died of a drug overdose. But the real cause... he was shot. There were rumors that he got involved in the drug trade, but instead of selling, he started using."

Estello let out a deep breath, then nodded indifferently. "Ahh, that's why." His voice was calm, unshaken. "Then he deserved it."

A brief silence followed.

But Estello clapped his hands together, breaking the moment. "No more talk of the dark past!" He grinned. "Let's go eat! I've prepared chicken adobo just for you all. I'm sure you're still famished."

Jack's ears perked up. "Did you cooked it yourself, grandpa?"

Estello puffed up his chest. "Don't underestimate the old man!" He laughed as he strode ahead toward the dining hall.

As he walked, he suddenly shouted, "Maria!"

From a side door, a short, middle-aged woman quickly emerged, wiping her hands on her apron. "Yes, sir?"

Estello smiled. "Prepare the table for my lovely guests."

Maria nodded. "Yes, sir. Right away." She disappeared into the dining hall to get everything ready.

Jack turned to Richard and grinned. "Trust me, Grandpa's adobo is legendary. You're in for a treat."

Richard could only smile. A few hours ago, he was just a regular guy with a crazy stroke of luck—and now, here he was, stepping into a world that was both unfamiliar and welcoming all at once.