The dust swirling from the rapid acceleration of the old, rusty car was like a dirty blanket enveloping Mia’s small body. She remained standing at the edge of the abandoned road. Her small, dirty hands clutched tightly onto the handle of a faded suitcase almost as big as she was.

The heat of the setting sun in Batangas seeped into her skin, but she paid it no mind. The only thing she could hear were the repeated words of her stepmother, Een—words that were like poison spreading in her mind. *Wait for me here, Mia. Don’t leave. I’ll just get water from the creek and I’ll be right back.*

Those words, uttered without any emotion, were the last ray of hope she clung to. But as the minutes passed and the shadows of the tall sugarcane on either side of the road grew longer, that ray slowly died. All that remained was a chilling silence and the echo of the wind.

She watched the car until it became just a dot on the horizon, swallowed by dust and the endless road, until it finally disappeared. A strange heaviness settled in her chest. She looked up at the sky. Her eyes, filled with dust and confusion, pleaded for an answer that would never come. *Why?* That was the only question she could think of. One hour. Two hours. The once fierce sun was now an orange ball about to sink behind the hills.

Mia’s stomach growled with hunger and her throat was parched. She tried to swallow, but it felt like there was sand inside. Every passing truck loaded with sugarcane left a thicker layer of dust on her clothes and hair. But no one stopped. She was like a tiny ghost in the middle of nowhere. Unseen. Unheard.

On the other side, a black, shiny car sped along the highway. Inside, the air from the AC was cold, but the tension was palpable. Victor, a successful engineer, had just slammed his phone down after a heated argument. The veins in his temples were still throbbing, and his grip on the steering wheel was so tight his knuckles were white.

“You won’t get anything more from me, Dennis. Learn to stand on your own two feet,” he shouted into the void, his voice full of contempt. His brother, always a burden, a leech with endless needs. The conversation about money had once again led to dredging up old resentments.

Driven by anger, he changed his route, choosing a shortcut he usually avoided—a bumpy road cutting through the middle of sugarcane fields. 100 kilometers to avoid traffic, and now, to be alone. Carried by speed and the blinding rage, he didn’t immediately notice the small figure in the middle of the road.

A flash, a shadow, a small thing that shouldn’t be there. He slammed on the brakes. The deafening sound of tires screeching on cement tore through the afternoon silence. The car spun and stopped just inches from where Mia stood. Victor’s heart seemed to leap into his throat.

He froze in his seat, his mind blank with shock. He quickly got out of the car, ready to yell at whoever was so careless in front of him. *What do you think you’re doing in the middle of the road?* The angry shout formed in his mind. But when he saw who or what it was, all his anger vanished like a bubble. A little girl.

Dirty, thin, and trembling with fear. She just stood there, hugging an old suitcase. Her eyes were wide with terror. “Mia, are you okay?” Victor asked, his voice suddenly softening and becoming hesitant. He slowly approached, each step careful, as if walking towards a wounded animal ready to run at any moment. “I won’t hurt you.”

He raised his hands to show he had no bad intentions. He knelt down to be at eye level with her. There, he saw the child’s face clearly. Thin, covered in dust, with dried tear tracks on her cheeks. Her eyes, deep and dark, were full of a fear not befitting such a young age.

“Where’s your mom? Your dad?” he asked again, more softly this time. Mia just shook her head. Her grip on the suitcase tightened even more. The only words that came from her lips were a whisper almost inaudible. “Mom will be back,” she said. “She said she’d be back.”

Victor looked around. Endless sugarcane fields. A long road with no houses. No one. The sun was almost set. What kind of sane parent would leave a child in a place like this? His earlier anger at Dennis transformed. Now, it was a burning rage for whoever was responsible for this.

“Have you been here long?” A gentle nod from Mia was his answer. Victor sighed deeply. He brushed the dust off his expensive pants, now dirty from kneeling. He didn’t know what to do. He could leave her. He could call the police, but something held him back. Perhaps his own weariness from his problems. Perhaps the abandonment he saw in the child’s eyes mirrored his own feeling of loneliness in the gigantic house he returned to.

He made a decision suddenly, a decision he hadn’t thought through—rash and perhaps one that would disrupt his quiet life.

“It’s getting dark. It’s not safe here,” he said in a firm yet gentle voice. “You can’t wait here anymore. You’re coming with me.”

Mia’s eyes widened. She took a step back. Trust was a word long erased from her vocabulary. “No,” she whispered in reply. “Mom said to wait for her.”

“Listen,” Victor said, trying to control the impatience in his voice. “It’s dark. There are snakes in these fields. You need food. You need a safe place. I promise. I’ll bring you back here tomorrow if you want. But tonight, you’re coming with me.”

Mia stared at him. She studied his face, his eyes, searching for any sign of a lie. She saw none. All she saw was weariness and a flicker of pity—concern, she wasn’t sure. But the chill of the approaching night and the painful gnawing in her stomach finally made her surrender. Slowly, she nodded.

Victor took the suitcase. He was surprised by its lightness. It seemed almost empty. A life that fit into an almost empty box. “Let’s go,” he said, placing a hand on Mia’s back but not holding her. Still giving her space.

The trip to Alabang was quiet. Mia was pressed against the window, watching the scenery change from the dark province to the glittering city lights. Every tall building and wide road seemed like monsters to her vision. She felt herself shrinking, a speck of dust carried by the wind to a place she didn’t understand.

When the car entered the large gate of an exclusive subdivision, Mia’s heart beat even faster. The houses looked like palaces, each with high walls and wide gardens. They stopped in front of a house larger and more intimidating than the others. White, modern, and surrounded by glass. It seemed cold and lifeless.

“Here we are,” Victor said as the automatic gate opened.

Upon entering the house, the first thing that greeted them was deafening silence. The marble floor sparkled under the lights, and every step they took echoed. Everything was in perfect order—clean and seemingly uninhabited.

An older woman, wearing a neatly ironed maid’s uniform, came out from the kitchen. Her hair was in a tight bun and her face was expressionless. This was Consuelo, the long-time caretaker of the family.

“Sir Victor, good to see you’re home,” she greeted, but her eyes immediately went to the dirty child behind her employer. Her eyebrow slightly raised, and her gaze went from Mia’s muddy feet to her soiled clothes and messy hair. Mia didn’t see pity in those eyes, but bewilderment and an unconcealed dismay.

“Consuelo, prepare the guest room upstairs,” Victor ordered, removing his coat. “Give her something to eat and find clothes she can wear.”

“As you wish, sir,” Consuelo answered. Her voice was respectful, but her eyes remained fixed on Mia with a scrutinizing look, as if measuring the worth of the dirt the child had brought into the clean household.

Mia felt herself shrinking even more, more intense than earlier.

Victor led Mia to the guest room. It was spacious, with a bed like an island in the middle of an ocean of white sheets, and had its own bathroom. To Mia, it was even bigger than the house she used to live in with Een. But the room’s opulence only brought more intense fear.

Victor left her to eat and bathe. Consuelo brought a tray of food—hot soup, rice, and fried chicken—and placed it on the table without a word. She also left a large white t-shirt on the bed. Then she left and closed the door, leaving Mia in the vast, intimidating silence.

Mia barely touched the food. She was too tired, too scared, too confused. After bathing, she put on the large t-shirt that smelled of soap and perfume. She lay down on the bed, but its softness didn’t bring comfort. She felt like she was sinking and drowning. She closed her eyes, and all the events of that day came back like a nightmare: Een’s angry face, the departing car, the endless dust, the blinding lights of Victor’s car, and Consuelo’s cold stare.

Sleepiness visited her, brought by extreme exhaustion. Her breathing slowed and deepened. In the middle of her sleep, an image flashed in her mind. Een’s hand hitting her. She screamed in her dream, a weak groan full of pain. In the darkness of the large, strange room, a word escaped her lips. A whisper full of longing and sorrow. “Mom!”

A beam of light peeking through a gap in the thick curtain woke Mia. For a moment, she was overwhelmed by the unfamiliar softness of the bed and the scent of clean sheets. But when she opened her eyes, the comfort was suddenly replaced by terror. This was not her room. The ceiling was very high, pure white, and without any stain of dirt or soot. The walls had no scratches, unlike hers which were full of marks from old nails and peeling paint. She jolted upright. Her heart raced like a chased horse.

The air in the room was cold and foreign. *Where am I? I’ve been kidnapped.* This was the first thought that entered her mind. She quickly scanned the surroundings, looking for her suitcase. She saw it in a corner, like humble trash amidst the luxury. She ran towards it and hugged it tightly. It was the only familiar thing to her now.

She walked slowly to the large glass window. Outside was a perfect garden—neat green grass, flowers of various colors, and a small fountain in the middle. It was very beautiful, but to her, it was a prison with a nice view. She tried to open the window, but it was locked. She approached the door and gently turned the knob. It was also locked. Fear began to eat at her calmness. She leaned against the door, her knees shaking.

Memories of stories about children being taken and never seen again came back to her. Was this her end?

Moments later, she heard a gentle knock on the door.

“Mia, are you awake?” A man’s voice. Victor’s voice.

She didn’t answer. She remained silent, holding her breath, hoping he would just leave.

“Mia.” Another knock, more insistent this time. “I brought breakfast. I know you’re hungry.”

She heard the sound of a key turning, and the door slowly opened. Victor entered carrying a tray. There was hot fried rice, eggs, and a glass of milk. His appearance in the morning was not as frightening as last night. He was just wearing a simple t-shirt and shorts. But the aura of authority was still there.

“I know you’re scared,” Victor said, carefully placing the tray on a small table. “But I won’t hurt you. Eat first.”

Victor sat on a chair not far away, giving her space. Mia just watched him, her eyes full of doubt. The smell of the food was tempting, but her fear was stronger than her hunger.

“Who are you?” she finally asked, her voice trembling.

“My name is Victor,” he answered. “I saw you on the road last night. I couldn’t leave you there.”

“But Mom will come back,” Mia insisted, as if trying to convince herself.

A sad smile formed on Victor’s lips. “Eat first, Mia. We’ll talk later.”

Mia reluctantly sat down and ate. Every bite seemed to have sand in it, hard to swallow. While she was eating, Victor’s phone rang. Mia saw the name on the screen: *Mom*. Victor stood up and moved away a bit before answering the call.

“Hello, Ma.”

Immediately, Mia heard a shrill and loud voice from the other line even though it wasn’t on speakerphone.

“Victor, what kind of foolishness is this again? Your brother called me. You picked up some street child and brought her to your home? Have you gone mad?”

Victor closed his eyes and massaged his temples.

“Ma, please, lower your voice. It’s not what you think.”

“What do you mean, not what I think? What are those walls and subdivision guards for if you’re just going to let in strangers? What if she’s a thief, or worse? Are you thinking of our family’s reputation?”

“She’s just a child, Ma. She was abandoned.”

“I don’t care. Take her back where you got her. I won’t let our name be tarnished just because of your rash decision.”

Every word from his mother felt like needles pricking Victor’s patience.

“We’ll talk about this later. I have to go.” He quickly hung up before his mother could answer.

When he turned back to Mia, his face was covered with weariness and irritation. He saw the confusion in her eyes, and the flicker of hope he saw earlier was once again swallowed by fear.

Mia was left alone in the room. Her fear was replaced by a new feeling. The feeling of being a big problem. A dirt that needed to be cleaned.

Due to anxiety, she began to wander around the vast house. Every corner screamed of wealth and loneliness. There were no family photos except for one placed in the living room. She approached it. It was a photo of Victor, younger and happier, with a very beautiful woman. Their smiles were wide and their eyes sparkled with love. This must be his wife. The ghost in the mansion.

Slowly, she reached for the photo. Her fingers gently stroked it. In an instant, because of the trembling of her hand, the frame slipped from her grasp. A sharp sound of breaking glass filled the silence of the entire house.

Mia froze in her place. Her breathing stopped. That sound was familiar to her. It was the sound always followed by shouts and punishment.

“What did you do?” A cold voice came from behind her. Consuelo. She quickly approached, her face wrinkled with anger. Her eyes were fierce as she looked at the scattered broken glass on the floor.

“Careless child! Do you know how valuable that was? No caution!” Consuelo shouted.

Tears began to well up in Mia’s eyes. “I didn’t mean to.”

“Didn’t mean to? Everything, you didn’t mean to. Just trouble. Ever since you arrived, you’ve brought nothing but trouble.” Every word felt like a slap.

Mia bowed and, in extreme fear, tried to pick up the broken glass.

“Don’t touch that!” Consuelo shouted again and was about to grab Mia’s arm.

“Consuelo, that’s enough.” Victor’s voice boomed in the living room. Calm but full of authority. He stood at the foot of the stairs. His face was serious and unreadable.

Consuelo turned, slightly startled. “Sir, I’m sorry, but that was Ma’am Elena’s photo.”

“It’s just a picture, Consuelo,” Victor cut her off. Walking towards them, he said, “She’s a child.” Slowly, he knelt in front of Mia, who was now crying silently.

“Don’t pick that up; you might get hurt.” He took Mia’s hand and gently stood her up. He looked at Consuelo, and this time, his eyes were blazing. “Don’t you ever shout at her again. Do you understand?”

Consuelo bowed her head. “Yes, sir. My apologies.” She got a broom and dustpan and started cleaning quietly, but her resentment was still palpable in the air.

Victor took Mia to the upstairs bathroom to check if she was hurt.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Mia just nodded, unable to look him in the eye.

Victor sighed deeply. “You need to bathe and change. You still smell like dust.” He left the child in the bathroom. He got a clean towel and the t-shirt Consuelo had left.

When he returned, Mia had her back turned. She was taking off her dirty dress, and in that instant, Victor saw it. On the thin back of the child, under her shoulders, were old, purplish bruises. Finger marks. Some were round, perhaps from the end of a stick or a belt. They weren’t fresh, but they were clear marks of repeated abuse.

A searing anger suddenly rose from Victor’s gut. More intense than his irritation with his brother or his mother. It was a pure and deadly hatred. All the questions in his mind found a grim answer. This child was not just abandoned. She was hurt.

The image of the bruises was now etched in his mind. All his earlier doubts, all his hesitation, suddenly vanished. Replaced by a firm and unshakable decision.

When Mia turned around, Victor’s face was calm. But his eyes had a fire that the child had never seen before.

Victor whispered to himself, “As long as I am here, this will never happen to you again.”