Miggy's POV
Uncle Rick's expression was one of surprise, but I could tell he already suspected something.
"Uncle?" I asked cautiously.
He took a deep breath and cleared his throat as if something was caught inside. "Miggy, I don't think this is the right time to discuss this—especially with everything happening with your father. Let's talk later, once we've taken care of him. I expected you'd want to ask me about it, so trust me—I'll tell you everything I know when the time is right."
He didn't say exactly what I wanted to hear, but I wasn't disappointed. I trusted Uncle Rick. Daddy confided in him more than in Uncle Manuel, his own brother.
I heard Meynard announce that Mom and Carla had arrived, but Mom hurried straight to the Heritage office entrance. We didn't get to see each other again that night. As more people came to offer condolences, the house filled with familiar faces.
"Nard, go home and rest. We'll meet at the condo tomorrow," I told Meynard, noticing how exhausted he looked after a long day at the office, the hospital, and now here.
He hesitated but nodded, clearly worn out. "Okay, bro."
"Here, take my car. Be careful," I added. "I'll get Mommy's driver to take me home later."
I turned to Uncle Manuel, who sat quietly beside me as we watched the staff arrange a large photo of Dad next to his coffin. Despite the late hour, many people were still waiting for the ceremony to end.
"Uncle, won't you and Aunt Beth go home?" I asked softly.
"It's too late. I'm fine," he replied with a tired sigh. "And there are still many people to see."
I sat down next to him, quietly watching the guests. A gentle tap on my leg caught my attention. Uncle Manuel looked at me, then to our left, where Aunt Beth's mother was comforting Uncle Manuel's wife. I understood what he meant.
I stood and approached Mom and Aunt Beth.
"Mom!" I called out.
Mom glanced at me, tears streaming down her face. She was holding Aunt Beth tightly.
As I embraced her, I whispered, "Shh, Mom. Please try to relax."
She shook uncontrollably, her sobs deepening.
"Daddy wouldn't want to see you like this," I added gently. "We both hurt, but we need to stay strong for him—for each other."
I rubbed her back as best I could. It surprised me that I was able to say those words at all, given how lost I felt inside. My mind was a whirlwind of confusion and pain, but I pushed those thoughts aside. I couldn't afford to break down—not yet. Mom needed me.
The days passed quickly. Now we were at church, waiting for the mass before Dad's final farewell. People from show business and longtime family friends filled the pews. Uncle Greg, the youngest of Dad and Uncle Manuel's brothers, was there too, though he came alone—the rest of his family lives abroad.
After the mass, we walked together to the mausoleum where Dad would be buried alongside my grandparents. Mom wore a simple white dress, and I dressed in black pants with a white polo, sleeves folded up. Aunt Beth wore black and white, while Uncle Manuel and Uncle Greg wore white shirts.
Meynard came with some of his family—nanny Soleng, Mang Carding, and others who had served our family for years. Carla, Mom's personal assistant, was close by, along with her relatives.
I hadn't had the chance to speak to everyone, but I thanked those who had shown support. Uncle Rick stayed with Mom and me every night, but we hadn't spoken much about what was troubling me. I planned to talk to him once the funeral arrangements were over.
Dad's coffin was placed on a stand near the mausoleum, not inside it yet. A tent provided shade, and plastic chairs were arranged around us. I sat with my elbows on my knees, head in my hands.
Mom cried silently beside me. I wasn't sure who came to pay their final respects, but the tears wouldn't come from me.
"Bro," Meynard's quiet voice broke the silence.
"Huh?" I looked up.
"That's the woman you almost hit," he whispered. "I felt bad for her. She didn't approach us."
"Is she okay?" I asked, the guilt hitting me again. "I haven't talked to her since I took her to the hospital. Maybe she needs something."
"She's fine," Meynard said. "I'll talk to her after you get inside."
I nodded, sinking back into my thoughts. My head felt like it might explode from everything swirling inside—guilt, anger, sorrow. I wanted to scream or cry, but nothing came. I hadn't slept since the night Dad was rushed to the hospital.
I silently apologized to Dad, though it was too late. I regretted the harsh words I'd thrown at him during our last conversation. I hadn't told Meynard how torn I felt—I didn't want to burden him further since he'd been handling so much on my behalf.
A tap on my shoulder pulled me back to reality.
"Let's go," Uncle Manuel said, standing beside me.
I realized Dad's coffin had been moved inside the mausoleum. Uncle Manuel helped me up and hugged me as we entered.
Many people waited outside—the service was for family only.
"Uncle," I whispered. "I'm not sure I can do this."
"Son, you have to face this to accept it," he said quietly. "It's the first step to moving forward."
"It'll be harder if you don't," he continued. "We don't know how long any of us have. You're lucky you had time with him, even if it wasn't long. Seeing him one last time helps our minds understand he's gone. He's not lost—he lives in our hearts and memories."
He led me inside and didn't let me speak again.
Mom's cries grew louder, her arms wrapped around Aunt Beth. But I still couldn't cry. My chest felt heavy and tight. No tears came.
Finally, Dad's coffin was placed into the tomb. We sat together; Mom comforted by Aunt Beth.
I looked for Meynard and Carla—they were still outside, as was Uncle Rick.
When Uncle Rick approached, I stood.
"Thank you for coming, Uncle."
"This is nothing," he said softly. "Compared to what your father and I went through."
My aunt comforted me gently and went to Mom, who stared blankly at Dad's grave.
"Call me when you're ready to talk," Uncle Rick said. "I'm here for anything you need."
"I appreciate it," I replied.
They didn't stay long, as they had a long trip ahead.
I noticed Meynard speaking seriously with a woman nearby—the woman I hit.
"She's grateful for your help," Meynard said quietly.
"I wanted to talk to her, but she left in a hurry," I told him.
Her daughter had called, worried because Nimfa hadn't told her she'd left home.
I hesitated before saying, "I don't think I can go back to work tomorrow."
Meynard nodded gently. "That's totally fine, bro. Management understands. Please take your time. I'll handle everything at the office and keep you posted. You need to rest first. I know you haven't been sleeping well these past few days."
I rubbed my eyes. "My mind's all over the place. I can't even sleep. I don't know where to begin—or how to even start figuring it out."
I looked up at the sky and took a deep breath, trying to anchor myself.
Meynard placed a hand on my shoulder. "Bro, there's no problem without a solution. And I know you—you're strong enough to handle this. Whatever you need, I'm here. Just tell me how I can help."
I shook my head slowly. "I don't even know, Nard. Everything I'm carrying right now—it's like a storm of guilt, sorrow, regret... and anger at myself. I didn't really listen to Dad. I let my emotions take over. I said things I can't take back."
"He understood, bro," Meynard said quietly. "Sir G was never one to hold a grudge. He always saw the bigger picture. I'm sure he knew why you acted the way you did."
"Still… it was the last time we talked. And that's what he heard from me," I whispered. "I can't stop thinking about it."
A gust of wind passed through, making me shiver despite the heat.
"I'm glad you're here, Nard. I needed to say all this out loud. You're the only one who really knows how I felt. I couldn't even tell Mommy. She doesn't know what happened before Dad collapsed."
I turned away from the mausoleum. I didn't want to see who else was around. I needed this moment to stay between us.
"I'm scared she'll find out. About what I said to Dad… and about the daughter he wanted to find. I'm trying to keep my distance from her because every time I look at her, I feel even more guilty. But even if it hurts, I need to do this. I'll find his daughter. That's what he wanted."
Meynard glanced around before speaking, his voice low. "You think you'll be able to find her with that card?"
"I hope so."
"It's a good thing I got to the office when I did," he added. "The broken glass was still on his desk, and everyone was downstairs. No one saw me slip in and grab the card. I kept it safe."
I nodded, grateful. "Thank you, Nard. Keep it hidden. No one else can know about this—just us. I'm not ready to face Mommy with all this yet. I have to finish what I started for Dad."