The sun rose sharp and clean over Daet, throwing long golden beams across the hospital façade. Emma parked in the lot and sat for a moment, her hands on the steering wheel. A week ago she had told herself this was temporary—just a stopover, just a vacation to settle her grandmother's affairs. Now the crisp folder on the passenger seat said otherwise: her signed contract, sealed with the logo of St. Therese Medical, half-owned by the Alonzo family.
Head of OB-GYN.
She still couldn't believe she'd agreed.
Inside, the corridors hummed with their usual rhythm: nurses clipping charts onto beds, residents hustling with the anxious faces of people who never slept enough, the occasional laugh leaking out of the lounge. Emma moved with quiet purpose. She signed documents in the administration office, sat through a twenty-minute orientation with HR, then walked the halls that would now be hers to command.
It felt different—liberating and terrifying. She was no longer just a visitor or an old friend passing through. She belonged here now.
Ronald caught up with her as she was leaving the administration wing. His smile was wide, his white coat perfectly pressed.
"Emma," he called, falling into step beside her. "So it's official. Our new Head of OB-GYN."
She chuckled. "Looks that way."
He tilted his head toward the hospital gate. "Let's celebrate. Dinner, tonight. There's a place in Bagasbas, right by the water. Best seafood in town."
Emma stopped walking. His tone was light, but his eyes lingered in a way she didn't like.
"Ronald," she said gently but firmly. "Thank you, but no."
He blinked. "No?"
"I don't mix work and personal life. Not when you're technically my superior."
He tried to laugh it off. "Come on, Emma, it's just a meal. We've known each other since we were kids. And it's not like I'm your boss—we're colleagues."
She crossed her arms. "Colleagues, yes. Which is why I want us to stay that way. I want to be judged for my work here, not for dinners people might gossip about."
Ronald's smile faltered, pride wounded beneath the surface. "So… still the serious Emma, huh? Always drawing lines."
"Lines are important," she said, meeting his gaze. "Especially in hospitals."
There was a beat of silence. Then he sighed, raised his hands in mock surrender. "Alright, Doc. I hear you. No dinner."
"Thank you," she said softly, and walked away.
The research wing was in the next building over, connected by a covered walkway. Emma wasn't planning to stop, but curiosity tugged at her when she saw the lights on. She pushed the glass door open quietly.
Inside, Adrian stood over a long table cluttered with trays of leaves and petals. His hair was loose from its bun, falling over his cheekbones as he bent low, tweezers in one hand, a delicate orchid bloom in the other. He didn't notice her.
The room smelled faintly of alcohol and greenery, of soil carried in from the mountains.
Emma leaned against the doorframe, amused at his intensity.
"Whatcha doin'?" she asked.
The sound of her voice made him start violently. The tweezers slipped; the orchid nearly toppled. He caught it just in time, breathing sharply through his nose.
He turned slowly, eyes narrowed. "You shouldn't sneak up on people like that, Doc. Some things are… fragile."
Emma smirked. "I was talking to the plant, but sure, if the shoe fits."
Color flared briefly in his face before he looked away. He set the orchid carefully back in its tray, adjusted a lamp, anything to keep his hands busy.
"What are you really doing here?" he asked without looking up.
"Paperwork," she said. "Signed my contract. I'm the new department head."
His eyes flicked to her then, unreadable. "Congratulations."
"Thanks," she said, watching him longer than necessary. The air between them was thick with something unnamed. Finally, she pushed off the frame. "Well. Don't stay up too late with your plants. Some things wilt when you fuss too much."
He almost smiled at that—almost.
Emma left the research wing just as Ronald emerged from another hallway, waving at her with too much cheer. They walked toward the parking lot together, his voice easy, hers polite but distant.
From the lab window, Adrian watched. His jaw tightened, not with jealousy but with the weight of inevitability. He had waited twenty years for her to come back, and now that she was here, fate had placed her in the orbit of a man who could give her everything safe, human, ordinary.
The forest in his blood whispered. He closed his eyes and willed it to be silent.
That night in Panganiban, Emma sat at her grandmother's dining table, a cup of coffee cooling beside her. The contract folder lay open, official and heavy. She touched the compass beside it absently, the needle trembling as if it longed for the forest.
For the first time in a long while, she didn't feel like she was running from anything. She was rooted again, even if the ground beneath her was shifting in ways she couldn't yet see.