16 Word Miracle Church (1/2)
Ysabel Javier
The name does not ring a bell. I do not know who she is or what she is. All I know is that this girl truly has something against elites and is probably a member of one.
”Who is she?” I ask.
”The unspoken true heir of the RSC,” Professor Diwa says gravely. ”The news of the betrothal between the current heir and Rex de la Rama crushed her. In her heart, she knows that she alone deserves to inherit that fortune.”
”But how can she be the heir?” I ask once more. ”Isn't Emma Concepcion, my friend, the only true heir?”
”No, I think not,” he says. ”Though illegitimate, Ms. Javier has a greater claim as she is born first.”
The facts ring in my head as if the church bells clang directly into my ear deafening me to something I cannot believe. I remember once more the argument Emma had with her sister. They both know that Emma is the only heir. Adopted children are not part of the companies' succession, and an illegitimate child could possibly change the game. If this girl is recognized by Mr. Concepcion, then she is certainly entitled to an inheritance. It seems to me that she is not willing to share. She wants the company as a whole. She will not be willing to break it into a corporation and create shares amongst people that have claimed. Rex was supposed to buy some shares from the RSC. Emma is entitled to it as a whole, but since this awkward situation came along, things will become unpredictable.
Then, there is one other thing that bothers me more. How can Professor Diwa know this before my friend and her sister do? How can a lowly university professor know the secrets of the elite before we can know? What makes a self-made professor a great book that knows the elites' secrets?
”How can you know?” I ask bluntly.
”Untold reasons,” he answers shortly. ”It pays to have a father who was once part of the elite but chose to live a life out in the country. You do not know me, Ms. Aguinaldo. Though you have spent four years at the university, no one truly knows who I am and what I have been through. I suggest you do not meddle with the business of the elite. The costs are far too great to be paid. Live a silent life and choose a different line of journalism. Have you ever thought about sports journalism? Maybe you can also try editorial writing. Do not meddle with economics and current events. I suggest that to you.”
”You once taught that the truth matters more than anything,” I say. ”You once said that whatever happens, the truth should always prevail. Do not convince me to stay away from the truth to acquire what you need from her. Help me, and maybe, I can help you and tie everything together.”
”No, I'm afraid that won't be necessary,” he says. ”You are right. I also seek the truth I cannot get from anyone but from Ms. Javier. You may be able to give the truth to me, Ms. Aguinaldo, but once I ask it of you, it would create more questions. A question creates more questions if it shall be answered. A lie needs to be supported by more lies. I will not try to convince you anymore, but I will live the rest of my life knowing that I, at least, tried to save you.”
”Save me!” I spit. ”I need the truth!”
”There is nothing more that can be said,” he says. ”God be with you, Rosanna. God be with you all.”
And just like that, he rose from his seat and went his way out. There are too many people to suspect. There are too many people that will not tell the truth. This lady, Ysabel Javier, is the mafia queen and the root of all of these, but I do not know what he looks like. Professor Diwa is oddly connected with the sister of my friend, the declared heir and the lady that claims to be the true heir. My lawyer, Atty. Guevarra, is also one to suspect. He was quick to help us. It is no kind gesture. I know he wants something in return, though he claims that we share the common goal, I do not know what it is.
I do not even know what to do anymore. A few days past and I am released from the hospital. I need guidance. I am utterly lost. Ysabel never came back to threaten me again. It seems that my silence made her think that I have given up, but I am far from that. I need a way to begin tying these loose ends. I know for a fact that Ysabel killed Rex to prevent him from claiming anything from RSC. What about the others that have lingering claims? What about cousins? I know Emma must certainly have one. There must be one in a million that must want to claim the fortune if no one wants it.
It is Sunday. After I get out of the hospital, I decided to visit Emma's former church. She used to play in this very church as the principal pianist. I came too early for the mass. There is no one there except the few ministers that prepare early for the mass. As I walk in the middle of the aisle, I see the reflection of the stained glass windows each representing the Stations of the Cross.
I make a sign of the cross using the holy water. Suddenly, I am broken into tears. I am lost. I have nowhere to go. I need to solve this. I cannot take another story while I leave this lingering on. I need the truth. I need to bring justice to Rex when others will not. Somehow, the great statue of the crucified Jesus urges me to carry on and stand. He sees my pain and I can see the representation of the pain he felt on the cross.
I kneel on the kneeler and pray sincerely. I am not religious, as I said before. The closest I ever got to being pious is praying the five decades of the rosary. In this time of ruin, the Lord became my shoulder to cry on. This is how desperate I become. I wish it can be just like before. I wish I can just see Emma playing on that piano with a nun Eloisa by my side and a peaceful college life.