With the watchers busy at the Reyes house, we moved on the boat. Leo found the address. It was now owned by a man named Mang Kardo, docked at a sleepy pier.
Getting there was a problem. We couldn't afford a tricycle that far. So we went on foot, cutting through back alleys and coconut groves, the journey taking over an hour. Luna walked with us, but with every step away from the town center, she grew paler, more strained, like a radio signal fading into static.
"The rope… is pulling tight," she whispered, her voice faint.
We found The Luna's Light. It was a sorry sight, paint peeling, sitting low in the water. Mang Kardo was nowhere in sight.
"Now what?" Leo hissed. "We can't just board it!"
But Luna could. With a determined look, she floated over the water and onto the deck. Her form was barely visible now, like a heat shimmer. She pointed a trembling finger at a specific floorboard near the stern.
I looked at Leo. This was it. We were committing breaking and entering. We scrambled onto the dilapidated boat, our feet echoing on the rotten wood. Using a rusty fish scaler we found, we pried up the floorboard Luna indicated.
Underneath, wrapped in oilcloth and sealed tight with tape, was a bundle. It was still there. After all these years.
My hands shook as I pulled it out. It was heavier than I expected.