"Did you forget anything, sweetheart?" Mommy asked while looking at me closely, holding my suitcase like she didn't want to let go.
"Nothing, Mommy. I checked everything—twice, even," I replied while adjusting my grip on the handle of the suitcase.
Behind me, Manong Franco was quietly loading things into the car's trunk. As usual, serious face. But beside him—here comes Yaya Vienne, running like she's chasing something, holding a big eco bag with massive pockets.
"Kiera! Wait! This! Don't forget this!" she shouted, practically throwing the bag into the air.
"Yaya!" I said, meeting her halfway to catch it.
"There are crackers in there, granola bars, chocolate, peanuts, gummy bears, and your favorite mini cookies—all emergency snacks. And there's tissue too, for when you cry because you miss us. But don't worry, I won't judge you… at least not in public."
Mommy laughed. "Vienne, you probably packed utensils and plates too."
"Actually, I did," Yaya said proudly.
That's so Yaya Vienne—hyper, talkative, and overprepared for everything. You'd think I was going backpacking up a mountain, not just moving into a dorm.
"Just make sure you eat well, okay?" Mommy added, fixing my hair again for probably the tenth time. "And please, update us when you arrive. Even just an emoji."
"I promise, Mommy… I'll call right away, always. Every day, every night… or every minute, if you want." (She laughed a little, but her eyes looked sad.) "I promise."
She held my hand, and for a second, it felt like she didn't want to let go.
"You're growing up so fast," she said softly. "But no matter how far you go, you'll always be my baby."
"Mommy, come on," I said with a smile, trying not to get emotional.
"No matter what happens, this will always be your home, sweetheart. You'll always have a place here."
"I know. I love you, Mommy."
"Love you more, my daughter."
Manong Franco opened the car door. But before I could get in, Yaya Vienne jumped in one last time.
"Your lavender oil! I put it in the side pocket of your backpack. You might ignore it now, but trust me—one day, you'll think I'm a genius."
"Yes, Yaya," I said, laughing.
I looked at them through the window—Mommy, Yaya Vienne, and Manong Franco. Three people who became my family even if we're not related by blood. They were all waving, smiling, totally calm. No tears, but the warmth was undeniable.
This is it. First day of a new beginning.
College life… here I come.