The day's events kept replaying in my mind. I couldn't shake off the feeling of familiarity with the man who had helped find my kids. There was something about him that tugged at the edges of my memory, but I just couldn't put my finger on it. His face, his voice, something about him seemed like a shadow from my past.
We traveled early the next day, the sun barely up, casting long, lazy shadows across the road. I had been staring at my phone during the trip, waiting for a reply from Zairon. I had informed him that I would be back in Pampanga, but there had been no response since last night. Each time the screen lit up, hope flickered, only to be extinguished by disappointment.
