doce

"So, how are you pretending to be a student-teacher, Navarro?"

The voice comes out of nowhere, sharp and cutting through the air. I freeze for a second, my hand tightening around the strap of my bag. It’s a voice I don’t recognize, but I can tell it’s laced with something that doesn’t sit right with me.

I turn to face whoever said it, my mind already spinning. Navarro?

A woman I don’t know is leaning against the wall, her arms crossed, a look in her eyes that’s part amusement, part something darker. I can’t quite place it, but the words feel like they’re meant to dig at something deeper, something I’ve been trying not to confront.

I stand still for a moment, wondering if I’ve heard her right. Pretending? Did she really just use that word? My mind flashes to Alice, to everything I’ve been avoiding. To the secret that’s been burning inside me—something I’ll never admit out loud, not to anyone, certainly not to someone like her.

But I won’t let her see me falter.

"Excuse me?" I finally ask, keeping my voice steady, despite the anger building up inside.

The woman smirks, her eyes narrowing slightly, almost daring me to react. "You heard me, Hontiveros," she says, emphasizing my last name, as if trying to remind me of something.

"Everyone knows what’s been going on. The student-teacher dynamic? It’s all just a game for you, isn’t it?"

I can feel the blood rush to my ears, my chest tightening. The weight of the world seems to press down on me in that moment. I can’t breathe.

This woman doesn’t know anything.

She doesn’t know how much I’ve tried to distance myself from everything—how much I’ve tried to pretend it doesn’t matter, that I’m not caught in something I can’t get out of. I can’t let her see that she’s struck a nerve.

Instead, I take a deep breath, pushing the rising frustration back down. "I don’t know what you’re talking about," I say, keeping my voice calm, but inside, I can feel the storm brewing.

She shrugs, as if she’s already won. "Maybe you don’t. But everyone’s talking. And you’re not fooling anyone."

The words hit harder than I want to admit. But I refuse to let her see it. I turn away without saying another word, feeling the weight of her gaze on my back as I continue walking.

But as I walk away, the doubt starts creeping in. What if she’s right? What if everything I’ve been trying to ignore is finally coming to light?

No. I won’t let it. I can’t let it.

I have to keep walking.

─

I let out a long breath as I drop my bag onto the couch, my body sinking into the soft cushions. Finally, some peace. No students, no lingering gazes, no accusations hanging in the air. Just silence.

Or at least, that’s what I thought.

My phone buzzes on the coffee table. I glance at the screen, frowning at the unknown number. I hesitate for a second before answering.

"Hello?"

"Ma’am Navarro," a voice greets me, flat and businesslike. "You’ve been out for, what, four months now? It’s getting bankrupt."

I sit up, my grip on the phone tightening. Bankrupt?

My stomach drops. I already know what they’re talking about, but I don’t want to acknowledge it. Not now. Not when I’ve been spending so much time trying to forget.

"That’s not my problem anymore," I say, leaning back against the couch.

"It was your problem before you disappeared," the voice counters. "People are asking. They’re getting impatient. You can’t just pretend this doesn’t exist."

I press my fingers against my temple. I don’t have the energy for this. Not after today. Not after Alice.

"I'll handle it," I say sharply. "Just give me time."

The person on the other end sighs. "Time isn’t something we have much of, Navarro."

The call ends before I can respond.

I drop my phone onto the couch beside me, staring at the ceiling.

Four months. I thought I could just walk away. Thought I could start over. But the past has a way of catching up, doesn’t it?

And this time, I don’t know if I can outrun it.

─

Morning comes too soon. I barely slept.

I sit at the small dining table, a cup of coffee in front of me, untouched. The TV plays in the background, the usual noise of the morning news filling the quiet space—until one sentence makes my blood run cold.

"Navarro Company, once a thriving business with trillions in investments, is now on the brink of bankruptcy following the sudden disappearance of its CEO. It has been four months, and many are wondering what truly happened when she was still managing the company."

I grip the handle of my mug, my knuckles turning white.

There it is. My name—well, not my name, but the one I left behind. The identity I tried to bury when I walked away.

Navarro.

They’re talking about me.

I force myself to take a breath, but my chest feels tight. I knew this was coming. The phone call last night was just the warning shot. Now, it’s out there for everyone to see.

Four months.

Four months of silence, of pretending that life as Ms. Hontiveros—the teacher, the person I became—was real. That I could escape. That I could forget what I left behind.

But reality has a way of dragging you back, no matter how far you try to run.

I take a slow sip of my coffee, my mind already racing.

It was only a matter of time before the past found me again.

The bitter taste of coffee lingers on my tongue, but it does nothing to ground me. My fingers tap absently against the ceramic mug as the news anchor continues talking, the words blending together into background noise.

Then—my phone rings.

I don’t even need to look at the screen. I already know who it is.

With a sigh, I reach for the device and answer.

"You saw the news, didn’t you?" the voice on the other end says without greeting. Same voice from last night. Cold. Direct.

I close my eyes briefly, pressing my fingers to my temple. "I did."

"And?"

"And what?" I snap, leaning back against my chair. "I already told you. I’ll handle it."

The caller scoffs. "You keep saying that, but nothing’s happening. Meanwhile, Navarro Company is sinking faster than anyone expected. Investors are pulling out. Shareholders are panicking. And you? You’re playing teacher."

My jaw tightens. "I didn’t ask for a lecture."

"You didn’t have to," they say, voice sharp. "You think you can just disappear, Risa? You think you can just walk away from a company of that size without consequences?"

I don’t answer.

Because what can I even say?

They’re right.

I knew what I was doing when I left. I knew the risks. I knew that someday, someone would come knocking, demanding I pick up the pieces of what I abandoned.

But that doesn’t mean I’m ready to face it.

The voice on the other end sighs, but there’s no sympathy in it. Only exhaustion. "Look, I don’t care what you’ve been doing for the past four months. Whatever reason you had for leaving, fine. But time’s up. You need to come back."

I exhale slowly. "And if I don’t?"

A beat of silence.

Then, their voice drops lower, colder. "Then you’ll lose everything. And I don’t just mean the company."

My fingers tighten around my phone. "Is that a threat?"

"It’s reality," they correct. "You know how this works. Walk away, and it won’t just be your name dragged through the mud. People trusted you, Navarro. They invested in you. Some of them? The kind of people you don’t want to disappoint."

My stomach twists. I know exactly what they mean.

I press my lips together, staring at the dark liquid in my mug. My reflection stares back, tired eyes, heavy with the weight of decisions I can’t avoid anymore.

"You have a choice," they continue. "Come back and fix this. Or sit back and watch everything collapse—including the people you left behind."

I clench my jaw.

A choice.

Like it’s really that simple.

Like I don’t already know what I have to do.

─

I inhale sharply, steadying myself before picking up my phone and dialing the number I never thought I’d have to call again.

It rings once. Twice. Then a familiar voice answers.

"Navarro."

"I'll handle it," I say, already moving. I grab my suitcase from the corner, shoving it onto the bed. "Fix everything. I’m flying to the U.S. to clean up this mess."

I hang up before they can respond.

My hands move on autopilot, stuffing clothes into my bag. My mind is already miles ahead, calculating, anticipating. I knew this would happen. They wouldn’t last without me. Four months—that’s all it took for everything to start falling apart.

And now, it’s me again. It’s always me.

The CEO will take care of it.

I zip up my suitcase and glance around my small apartment—the place where I became Ms. Hontiveros. The place where, for a fleeting moment, I was someone else.

Someone lighter. Someone freer.

That ends the moment I step on that plane.

I let out a quiet, humorless laugh, shaking my head. "I’ll miss being a Hontiveros."

I grab my coat, sling it over my shoulders, and pull my suitcase toward the door.

No more pretending.

Time to work.

As my hand grips the suitcase handle, I take one last look around the dimly lit apartment. It’s quiet—too quiet.

No more students calling my name.

No more stolen glances across the classroom.

No more Alice.

I shut my eyes for a moment, pushing the thought away.

This is how it has to be.

My phone buzzes again. Another message. Another reminder that I don’t have the luxury of hesitation.

I tighten my jaw and step out the door, my heels clicking against the floor like a clock ticking down to something inevitable.

Time’s up.

The woman they called Ms. Hontiveros?

She stays here.

I have a company to save.