The sun rose, and light streamed through the small window of Julia's room. Several weeks had passed since she returned to her parents' care.
But sometimes, she still woke up expecting the noise of jeepneys, the chill of the cement beneath a piece of cardboard, and the presence of Renzo and the others beside her.
Instead of the bustling street, she was greeted by the smell of freshly cooked rice and dishes simmering in the pan.
"Julia! Wake up, sweetheart. Help your Papa at the canteen," her mother called from downstairs.
Julia quickly fixed her bed and changed into a simple uniform—a white t-shirt and an apron. She went down the wooden stairs, each step filled with renewed energy.
Their small family canteen stood by the roadside on the way to the town center. It wasn't big, but it was always full of regulars—tricycle drivers, students, and workers who loved Aling Lorna's cooking.
Julia quickly learned how to help out—wiping tables, taking orders, serving pancit and home-cooked meals, and greeting customers with a gentle smile.
"Julia, sweetheart, can you hand Manong his change?" her father asked proudly.
"Here you go," Julia replied as she handed the change. The customer smiled and thanked her.
Although the work was tiring, she never complained. This life was far from her old one, where she had to scavenge through garbage just to survive. Here, she felt the warmth of home—the feeling of being with the real family she had long lost.
But every time she saw street children passing by, laughing and playing, something ached in her heart. She remembered Renzo's face, Jasper's innocent smile, and the nights they spent huddled together beneath a streetlight.
****
Weeks later, Julia stood in front of the school gate—for the first time in a long while. She wore a clean uniform, her hair neatly tied in a ponytail.
Her mother held her hand; both of them were nervous but happy.
"You can do this, anak," her mother whispered.
Julia nodded, clutching her bag tightly. Her heart pounded—not from fear, but from the thrill of a new beginning.
As she entered the school, she was greeted by children chatting and laughing energetically.
Some looked at her curiously—she was a new face, after all. She took a deep breath and walked toward her classroom.
"Class, we have a new student. Everyone, this is Julia," the teacher announced cheerfully.
"Good morning," Julia greeted shyly.
"Good morning, Julia!" the class chorused.
She sat in the middle row, quietly listening as the lesson began. She struggled a bit with some subjects, having missed years of schooling, but her determination was strong.
During recess, a few classmates approached her.
"Hi, Julia! Do you want to come with us to the canteen?" asked a cheerful girl.
Julia hesitated for a moment, then nodded. Slowly, she was learning to open her heart again to a world she once thought she'd never return to.
At night, after helping clean up the canteen and finishing her homework, Julia sat by the window, gazing at the stars—the same stars she used to look at with Renzo.
"Renzo… Jasper… all of you," she whispered as the wind carried her voice. "I hope you're all okay."
Her life was now filled with hope and new beginnings—but in her heart, the memories of her street family remained alive, like a quiet promise beneath the stars.
****
While Julia stared at the stars from her bedroom window, on the other side of the city, Renzo lay on the cold pavement.
Beside him were Jasper, Marlon, and the other children, wrapped in old blankets and cardboard to fight the night chill.
The surroundings were silent. The laughter and stories that once filled their nights had been replaced by a stillness louder than traffic.
"Kuya Renzo…" Jasper whispered under the covers. "I miss Ate Julia."
Renzo turned to face him. The little boy clutched the worn stuffed toy they'd found in the trash. Even in the dark, Jasper's sadness was clear.
"I know, Jasper," Renzo replied, his voice trembling. "I miss her too."
He glanced at the spot where Julia used to sleep—a piece of cardboard now empty and silent. It felt like a gaping hole no one could fill.
"Julia…" he whispered, gently touching the pendant that still hung around his neck. "I wonder how you are now."
He moved closer to the kids and lay beside them, pulling a piece of cardboard over them for warmth.
"Listen to me," Renzo said in a quiet but firm voice. "Julia will never be gone from us. Even if she's not here… she's still part of our family. So we have to keep going. For her… and for us," he said with resolve.
The children fell silent, but beneath the dark sky, a faint light of hope began to shine in their hearts.
Before closing his eyes, Renzo looked up at the stars again.
It was as if, despite the distance, he could still feel their bond—a quiet promise that time and distance could never break.
The sun rose over the city, but the cold morning lingered on the pavement where Renzo and the kids had slept.
One by one, they woke up, stretched their arms, and quickly packed up the cardboard before the police or guards arrived.
"Kuya Renzo, I'm hungry…" Marlon complained, rubbing his stomach.
"Wait a bit. We'll head to the terminal later—maybe we can find some bottles and newspapers," Renzo replied as he put on his old backpack.
They walked together along the street. Jeepneys started honking, and vendors busied themselves arranging their goods. For others, it was just another normal day; for them, it was another day to survive.
As they walked down the corner, Jasper suddenly stopped.
"Kuya… what's that?" he asked, pointing at a utility pole.
Renzo turned. A sheet of white bond paper was posted, the words at the top in bold letters:
"MISSING CHILDREN"
The children approached one by one. And when they saw the photos, they froze.
Jasper's photo.
Marlon's photo.
Their names, ages, and the last places they were seen were listed. A contact number for those searching was printed at the bottom.
"J-Jasper… that's you!" Renzo exclaimed in disbelief.
The boy's eyes widened. "It really is me…" Jasper whispered, gently touching the paper as if unsure whether to be happy or scared.
"Marlon, you're here too," Renzo said, pointing to another picture. Marlon, who had been quiet earlier, stepped back.
"Why is this here?" he asked, his voice trembling. "I thought… no one was looking for me anymore…"
Renzo fell silent. He hadn't expected this. They were used to seeing missing posters—but now, two of the children with him were the ones on the posters.
"But kuya…" Jasper asked softly, "Why… aren't you there?"
Renzo froze. That question struck deep in his heart.
He stared at the posters for a long time before slowly looking up at the sky.
"Maybe…" he whispered, "it's because no one's really looking for me," he said sadly.
The group fell silent. The children could feel the weight of Renzo's words. For the first time, he couldn't hide his pain and gripped Julia's pendant tightly.
As they stood there, a few passersby began looking at Jasper and Marlon, comparing their faces to the pictures.
"Kuya Renzo…" Marlon whispered nervously. "What if they take us?"
Renzo scanned the surroundings carefully.
"Don't be scared," he said firmly. "We don't know who's looking for you. But… maybe it's your families. Maybe this is your chance," he said with a reassuring smile.
Jasper and Marlon exchanged looks—filled with a mix of happiness, fear, and confusion.
Renzo, however, remained silent. Deep down, he knew that if their families found them… he might be the only one left behind.
He looked at the posters again. Two children had families searching for them.
And him… none.
As they continued walking, they saw more posters of Jasper and Marlon along the way.
What would happen to Renzo if their families found them?
Was there still hope for him to find his own family, too?