"Is big sis awake yet?" Vivianne asked Tashia, who was busy tending to the guests attending their grandmother's wake.
Tashia didn't answer right away. Her gaze drifted toward the house where their eldest sister, Sharlene, was resting.
It was almost morning. Vivianne needed rest too—she had work later, and it was getting harder to stay awake.
"I'll leave you here, Tashia. You know I have to leave early today because of work," Vivianne reminded her, already standing and adjusting her bag as the guests began to leave.
Tashia, now seated and looking weary, replied, "Aren't you going to take what Ate is giving you?"
"After the funeral, of course. I need the money," Vivianne replied plainly.
Tashia didn't push further and instead turned her eyes to the coffin and their grandmother's framed photo.
"Even if we didn't grow up with big sis Sharlene, I hope we still respect her," she sighed.
"Are you scolding me now, Tashia?" Vivianne asked, crossing her arms in annoyance.
"No. But Mom left her with Dad, and then… we were just surprised when Dad left her too." Tashia's voice softened.
"Because she's adopted, Tashia. Adopted. I only came out of respect for Grandma." Vivianne's stare was sharp.
Tashia didn't say anything more. She just gave a quiet shrug.
"Don't forget, because of her, you were able to finish your studies," Tashia said, her eyes locked on Vivianne's.
"Excuse me?" Vivianne's tone rose with sudden temper. "Yes, because it's her responsibility to support her siblings, right? And it's not even her money—it came from her husband."
Tashia just sighed deeply. Without another word, she walked away. "Get some rest," was all she said.
Vivianne glared after her as she walked back toward the house to check on Sharlene.
Brushing off the irritation, Vivianne prepared to leave. She reminded herself that Sharlene was on leave today—what a luxury. She wouldn't waste her own time; she had her job to focus on.
She was nearing the gate when someone called her name.
"Vivianne."
She stopped and turned. Her brows furrowed.
"Sheila?" she said, recognizing the woman.
Sheila smiled, and beside her was Sharlene's husband, Martin. Vivianne's eyes scanned the two of them quickly.
"You arrived early?" she asked suspiciously.
"Ah, we were just passing by," Martin replied casually.
"Just passing by?" she repeated.
The two exchanged glances. "We just happened to be nearby… We thought to check in on Sharlene. Condolences to the Rosario family."
Vivianne didn't respond. Something felt off. She simply nodded, deciding not to ask further.
"I'll go ahead," she said.
They nodded, and she turned to walk away—but her curiosity got the better of her. She looked back and saw them holding hands. Sheila only let go when they stepped inside the gate.
Vivianne raised a brow.
Their married life isn't my business. Besides, Sharlene isn't really my sister.
With that bitter thought, she walked away from the large house.
She arrived safely at her small home. Her shift was still hours away, so she lay down to rest.
You finished your studies because of Sis Sharlene.
Tashia's words echoed in her head, making her scowl.
I know that. You didn't need to say it. She grumbled inwardly, unable to sleep again.
It was true. Because of Sharlene, she was able to finish school. But ever since their family broke apart, life had been nothing but survival. Their mother left with another man, disappearing far away and forgetting about her and Tashia.
Back then, she had approached Sharlene—still a college student living with their grandmother. She would ask Sharlene for money because they were too ashamed to face Grandma directly. A part of her envied Sharlene's life. If she hadn't followed their mother, maybe she would've had the same privileges.
So she asked and asked—money for living, for survival, for Tashia. Every visit, every chore, every hospital shift for their grandmother—she charged Sharlene.
She didn't ask for help from their grandmother out of guilt. She had believed going with her mother was the right choice. But in the end, it was a mistake.
Vivianne sighed deeply as memories swirled in her mind.
She had extorted Sharlene out of guilt and survival. And now, she was trying to work hard, hoping somehow to balance that guilt with effort.
Vivianne, go to sleep. You need to work hard now to clear your guilt, right? She joked to herself bitterly.
Her body gave in, and she drifted into a dream.
In the darkness, she saw her grandmother walking—her face sorrowful. Vivianne tried to call out, but her hands were suddenly bound by something unseen.
Beside her grandmother stood two figures—also bound—a man and a woman. Their faces were hidden in shadow.
A fourth figure appeared: a woman seated, watching the three captives. She wore a black mourning dress. Her face was unreadable—but her smile was playful, chilling.
"So… you're all complete now."
The woman's voice echoed, followed by a hysterical laugh.
"Be ready… for your karma."
Vivianne woke up with a start.
Her heart pounded. What did that dream mean?
No. It's just your imagination, Vivianne. Don't think like that.
She shook her head, trying to brush off the unease.
"Vivianne, help me," someone whispered close to her ear.
She froze.
There was no one in the house. She lived alone.
"Help… help, Vivianne. There's no time left…"
The voice was faint, mixed with the wind, but unmistakable.
Goosebumps covered her skin. She was chilled to the bone.
Her grandmother had been in a coma. She passed peacefully. Or… had something else happened?
Was she being haunted? Was there something she didn't know?
Grandma…
Just the thought of her brought both sadness and fear. Her chest tightened with the weight of unanswered questions.