Chapter 28: Letters from Tondo14Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡKiRY9NR4dd
14Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡquKNvqRSXZ
Manila, Philippines
The streets of Tondo were as noisy and chaotic as ever—barkers shouting jeepney routes, vendors grilling isaw by the sidewalk, kids dribbling flat basketballs across narrow alleys. But for Jepoy Miranda, it all felt... dull.
Since he returned to the Philippines, nothing quite filled the space Erica left behind.
He lay on his old bamboo cot one rainy afternoon, the electric fan squeaking in rhythm as it turned. His mom was asleep on the couch. His father—no longer sick but still weak—sat by the window, staring outside with a distant look in his eyes.
But Jepoy? He stared at the unopened envelope on his lap.
It was the fourth letter he had written to Erica since he got back.
None of them had been sent yet.
He ran his fingers over the sealed flap, took a deep breath, and tore it open—not because he wanted to reread it, but because he couldn’t stop missing her.
Dear Erica,
It’s been ten days since I saw you last, but it feels like ten months. Maybe more.
Funny how when we were together, I didn’t realize how much I’d come to rely on your voice. Your laughter. Even your silence. Now, everything’s too loud here. The tricycles. The videoke machines. My own thoughts.
I brought the Braille bracelet with me, the one you helped me make. I still wear it. I’ve been tracing it whenever I feel like forgetting the sound of your name.
Erica.
Erica.
Erica.
I’ve been helping Papa walk every morning. He’s improving. He says you’re a miracle, and I believe him. You healed more than his legs. You healed something inside me too.
But now that I’m back here… I think I left the best parts of myself in Korea. With you.
Sometimes I dream that you’re painting again. I don’t know if that’s real or just my heart projecting. I wish I could see your hands holding a brush again.
Write me back, even if just one word. Even if you tell me you’ve moved on. But I hope… I pray… you haven’t.
Still yours,14Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ0Melxl6GvR
Jepoy
He folded the letter carefully and placed it into a small wooden box beside his bed, along with the other unsent letters.
He hadn’t found the courage to send even one. What if she didn’t reply? What if she had started seeing someone else? Someone who could give her everything he couldn’t?
“Anak,” his father suddenly said, voice hoarse. “Nagtext si Nanay mo, pauwi na raw siya. Bumili ka raw ng tinapay mamaya.”
Jepoy nodded absentmindedly, not really hearing it.
Instead, he picked up a notebook and began sketching.
Ever since Erica lost her sight, she would ask him to describe things to her in detail. But now that she wasn’t around to ask, he found himself drawing things instead. He wanted to remember every little thing he saw—so one day, if she asked, he could show her with words.
Today he drew the lamppost by the basketball court, the one with a broken base that curved like a question mark.
Then he drew her face—at least, what he remembered of it.
Every smile, every furrowed brow, every tear she tried to hide from him.
He didn’t hear the knock at the door until it came again, louder this time.
When he opened it, a deliveryman handed him a small package.
“Galing sa Korea, boss,” the man said, grinning. “May tumatawag talaga diyan, ah.”
Jepoy’s heart leapt.
The sender’s name: E. Salcedo
His hands shook as he opened it.
Inside was a simple white envelope. No note. No letter.
Just a single photo.
It was a Polaroid of Namsan Tower.
And tied to it... was their friendship lock. The one they had placed there weeks ago.
Except now, she had added something beside it:14Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡ1wUFOuz13l
A second key. The one she said she threw away.
Taped behind the photo was a small paper with Braille markings.
He rushed to get the Braille translator sheet Erica had given him when they studied together.
As he traced it, his eyes filled with tears.
"Still waiting. Still yours. E."
Back in Seoul, Erica sat alone by the window of the apartment she used to share with Lia. The sky was painted with cherry blossoms, and a breeze carried the scent of spring.
She touched her eyes. The world was still dark.
But she could feel something changing.
A tingle. A spark.
Maybe—just maybe—soon, she’d be able to see again.
And if that happened… the first thing she wanted to see…
Was him.
ns216.73.216.146da2
