The storm had finally subsided, leaving behind an eerie silence that blanketed Tuguegarao. The town was unrecognizable - trees uprooted, roofs torn off homes, and debris scattered across streets and fields. The air smelled of wet earth and destruction, heavy with the tension of what had been lost.
Erica and Sam stood at the edge of the village, their faces etched with disbelief. The weight of the storm's aftermath pressed down on them, its devastation a reflection of the turmoil in their hearts.
Sam's eyes scanned the wreckage, sharp and unyielding, his thoughts racing. Where is she? She should have been home by now. Aunt Nena never strays far during storms. He clenched his fists, his usual calm replaced by a simmering panic. She's probably hiding somewhere, staying out of sight until the storm passes, but what if she's not? What if - what if something happened to her?
"We need to find Aunt Nena," Sam said, his voice low but resolute, though a tremor betrayed his worry.
Erica nodded quickly, her stomach churning as she looked at him. She had seen Sam face challenges before, but never like this. His usual strength seemed shaken, and it unnerved her. He's terrified. I can see it in his eyes. How do I help him? How do I make this better? I've never seen him so vulnerable.
"Where could she be?" Erica murmured, trying to keep the tremble out of her voice.
Sam didn't answer right away. He scanned the horizon, his jaw tightening. She wouldn't leave the house. Not without a reason. Maybe she's gone to the shed - she's always had a soft spot for that old place. Maybe she thought she'd be safe there. I need to believe she's okay. She has to be.
"The shed," Sam said at last. "She might've gone there for shelter."
Without waiting, he took Erica's hand, gripping it tightly as they began to make their way through the muddy path leading to the small shed behind the house. The storm had left everything drenched, the ground squelching beneath their boots. The air was thick, every step feeling heavier as if the world itself was resisting them.
Erica kept pace with him, her thoughts swirling. Please let her be okay. She has to be okay. Sam can't lose her. I don't think he could bear it. The idea of Sam breaking was almost too much for her to handle. She couldn't bear the thought of him facing this alone. Why do I feel so helpless? I want to do something. Anything. But it's like the world is holding its breath, waiting to see how it all unfolds.
As they approached the shed, its state made them stop in their tracks. The roof had partially caved in, and the door hung off its hinges, swaying slightly in the aftermath of the storm.
Sam's chest tightened at the sight. He let go of Erica's hand and rushed forward, his voice calling out desperately. "Aunt Nena! Are you here?"
The silence that followed was deafening. Erica stayed at the door, her heart pounding as she watched him move through the wreckage with frantic energy.
Please, Aunt Nena, please be okay. Where are you? Erica's mind spun in circles as she watched Sam's desperate search. It felt like time was stretching on forever. What if she's not here? What if something happened to her? We can't lose her.
"She's not here," Sam said, his voice hollow. He turned to Erica, his expression a mix of fear and frustration. "Where could she be? She wouldn't just leave."
Erica swallowed hard, her throat dry despite the humidity. "Maybe she went to the garden," she offered, though she wasn't sure. It was a faint hope, but it was all she had.
Sam's eyes lit with determination, and without another word, he started toward the garden, the place where Aunt Nena often found peace in the mornings. Erica followed, her heart heavy with dread.
If Aunt Nena is there, maybe she's alright. Maybe she's just waiting for us. But what if she's not? Erica felt the growing lump in her throat. Her thoughts couldn't keep up with the emotions swirling inside her. Sam is falling apart in front of me. I want to fix this, make it better for him. But what if I can't? What if there's nothing we can do?
The garden was in ruins. The once-beautiful rows of flowers and vegetables were buried under branches and debris. Sam crouched down, his hands sifting through the wreckage as if searching for a sign, any sign, that Aunt Nena had been there.
She could have come out here to calm down. It was always her quiet place. If we don't find her here... where do we look next? How far do we go? I can't stand the thought of Sam going through this. Erica knelt beside him, her hand resting gently on his shoulder. "Sam..." she began, unsure of what to say. She had never seen him like this - so vulnerable, so desperate.
"She's all I've got," he muttered, more to himself than to her. "She raised me when no one else would. I can't lose her, Erica. I can't."
Erica felt her throat tighten. He's already lost so much. I don't know if he could handle this. How do I make him believe that things will be okay when I'm not even sure myself? She squeezed his shoulder, offering him whatever comfort she could. "We'll find her, Sam. I know we will."
He looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of hope and despair. "I don't know what I'll do if we don't."
Erica hesitated before speaking. "Sam, let's go back to the house for now. Maybe someone's seen her and left a message. We can't think straight if we're this exhausted."
He turned to her, his eyes flashing with frustration, but the exhaustion in his posture betrayed him. "I can't stop, Erica. I can't just sit and do nothing."
I understand. I understand better than he knows. But we need to be smart about this. We can't help anyone if we're running on empty. She stepped closer, placing her hands on his arms. "We're not giving up. But we need to regroup. She wouldn't want you running yourself into the ground like this."
For a long moment, Sam stared at her, his chest rising and falling as he tried to steady his breathing. Finally, he gave a small nod, though the tension in his body didn't ease.
As they made their way back to the house, the sun was setting, casting long shadows across the devastated landscape. The sight made everything feel heavier, as if the weight of the day was pressing down on them.
I'm not sure how much longer I can pretend to be strong for him. I feel like I'm falling apart too. Erica's thoughts were a blur. She wanted to stay calm for Sam, but the growing dread in her chest was almost suffocating.
Sam slumped onto the porch, his head in his hands. Erica sat beside him, her presence quiet but steady.
"We'll find her, Sam," she said softly, her voice filled with conviction. "I know we will."
He looked up at her, his eyes filled with unspoken fear. "I don't care what happens to me," he said, his voice barely audible. "I just need her to be okay."
I can't lose him too. I can't. We've come too far. We're not losing her. We're not losing anyone. Erica reached out, taking his hand in hers. "You care about her so much, Sam. And that's why we won't give up. But we have to rest and think clearly. She's out there, and we'll find her. Together."
For the first time since the storm had ended, Sam gave a faint smile. It wasn't much, but it was something - a glimmer of hope in the darkness.
As the stars began to appear in the sky, the night felt colder, and the uncertainty of what lay ahead pressed down on them. But Erica stayed close, her hand still in his, silently promising that no matter what came next, she wouldn't let him face it alone. We're in this together, no matter what.
*****
The morning was eerily silent, as if the world itself were holding its breath after the storm's unrelenting fury. Tuguegarao lay battered and broken - trees uprooted, roofs ripped from homes, and streets scattered with the wreckage of shattered lives. Yet amidst the devastation, Erica and Sam moved with purpose, united by the desperate need to find Aunt Nena.
Sam walked ahead, his boots squelching against the damp, muddy ground. His pace was quick and uneven, his shoulders tense, and his fists clenched at his sides. His breathing was shallow, almost labored, as his eyes darted over the chaos surrounding them. Where is she? What if she's hurt? What if... He swallowed hard, his jaw tightening. No. I can't think like that. I won't. I have to find her. I have to.
Erica trailed a few steps behind, her heart pounding as she watched him. His broad shoulders seemed heavier than ever, weighed down by the burden of his fear. He hadn't looked at her or spoken more than a few clipped words since they left the house.
"Sam," she called gently, though her voice trembled. "Slow down. Please."
He didn't respond, his pace relentless. His entire body radiated tension, as if he were barely holding himself together. Erica quickened her steps to catch up, the unease in her chest growing stronger.
He's shutting me out, she thought, her stomach twisting. He's scared, and I don't know how to reach him. How do I help him when I'm just as scared?
"Sam," she tried again, her tone soft but insistent. "Please, talk to me. You don't have to do this alone."
At last, he stopped. His shoulders rose and fell with each ragged breath, but he didn't turn to face her.
"What's there to talk about, Erica?" he said, his voice low and rough, carrying the weight of his frustration. "I need to find her. That's it. End of story."
Erica hesitated, her chest tightening at the raw pain in his voice. She took a small step closer. "I know you're scared," she said gently. "I'm scared too. But we'll find her. Together. You're not alone in this."
He turned then, his eyes blazing with emotion - anger, guilt, and fear all at once. "Scared?" he snapped. "This isn't about fear, Erica. This is about her. About me failing her. Again."
Her breath caught at the intensity in his voice. "Sam, you haven't failed her. You couldn't have stopped the storm - "
He cut her off with a sharp shake of his head. "I should've been here," he said, his voice cracking. "I should've done more. I shouldn't have left her alone."
The self-reproach in his words hit Erica like a punch to the chest. She opened her mouth to respond, but no words came. He's blaming himself for something no one could have prevented. How do I convince him it's not his fault when he's so determined to carry all this guilt?
Before she could say anything, Sam's gaze shifted past her, his body stiffening. Erica turned, following his line of sight. Dread coiled in her stomach at the way his entire demeanor changed.
"Sam?" she asked hesitantly, her voice barely above a whisper.
He didn't answer. Without warning, he took off running, his boots kicking up mud as he sprinted toward a small hill in the distance. Erica's heart leapt into her throat as she hurried to follow him.
"What is it?" she called out, panic creeping into her voice. "What do you see?"
Sam didn't slow down. He reached the crest of the hill, his steps faltering as his eyes locked on something ahead. Erica caught up to him, her breath catching as she followed his gaze.
Beneath a tangle of branches and debris lay a figure. Aunt Nena.
"No..." The word escaped Erica's lips before she could stop it.
Sam staggered forward, dropping to his knees beside the still form. "Aunt Nena?" His voice cracked as he began pulling away the branches, his hands trembling. "It's me. I'm here. Please, wake up."
Erica stood frozen, her breath caught in her throat. This isn't happening. Please, no.
Sam's movements grew frantic. "Come on, Aunt Nena," he pleaded, his voice rising. "You're stronger than this. You can't leave me. You can't."
Erica's knees buckled, and she sank to the ground beside him. Her hands hovered uncertainly over Aunt Nena's body, her thoughts a chaotic blur. What do I do? What do I say? He's breaking, and I can't stop it.
"I'm so sorry, Sam," she whispered, her voice trembling as she reached out to touch his arm. "I'm so, so sorry."
Sam didn't look at her. His gaze remained fixed on Aunt Nena, his face etched with disbelief and despair. "I failed her," he murmured, his voice hollow. "I should've been here. I should've protected her."
"No, Sam," Erica said quickly, her voice firm despite the tears stinging her eyes. She shifted closer, placing a hand gently on his shoulder. "You didn't fail her. This isn't your fault."
"She was all I had, Erica," he said, his voice breaking. "She was my family. And I wasn't here when she needed me."
Erica's heart broke at his words. He's carrying all of this on his shoulders, and it's going to destroy him.
"Sam, listen to me," she said softly but firmly. "You couldn't have stopped this. No one could have. The storm was bigger than all of us."
He closed his eyes tightly, his jaw clenching. "But I should've tried," he whispered. "I should've done something. Anything."
She tightened her grip on his shoulder, her voice steady despite her own tears. "Aunt Nena knew how much you loved her. She wouldn't want you to carry this guilt."
For a long moment, neither of them spoke. Sam's shoulders shook, his fingers trembling as he rested them on Aunt Nena's still form. Erica could see the pain in his every movement, the weight of his grief threatening to crush him.
Finally, he took a shaky breath and stood, his voice quiet but filled with resolve. "We need to bring her back. She deserves to be home."
Erica nodded, standing with him. "Okay," she said gently. "Let's bring her home."
They worked together to lift Aunt Nena's body, treating her with the utmost care and respect. Sam cradled her as if she were made of glass, his every movement filled with reverence.
The walk back to the house was long and silent, the weight of their grief palpable in the air. Erica glanced at Sam, watching the way his jaw stayed tight, the way his shoulders remained rigid. He thinks he has to carry all of this alone, but he doesn't. I won't let him.
When they reached the house, Sam laid Aunt Nena down gently, his hands lingering on her shoulders. He knelt beside her, his head bowed.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice breaking. "I'm so sorry."
Erica knelt beside him, her hand resting lightly on his back. "Sam, she knew how much you loved her. That's what matters."
He turned to look at her, his red-rimmed eyes meeting hers. For a moment, they simply stared at each other, no words needed. He's hurting so much, and all I can do is be here. But maybe... maybe that's enough.
Sam reached for her hand, gripping it tightly. Erica squeezed his hand, her silent vow clear in her touch. We'll get through this. Together.