Sal’s sight welcomed her own face the moment she woke up. Or at least, that is how sleepiness garbles it out to be. She lay in bed, with the other woman slapping her arm. 

“I thought you would never wake up. Such a heavy sleeper, you. Anyway, let us go.” The woman leaned into an uncomfortable proximity. “ The visitors, must be district inspectors, will come by lunch to check on the Hospicio. We still have the whole morning to go.” 

It does not make sense. “Visitors?” 

Lea nodded, “Not a visitor, child. Vultures.” 

The way the woman gripped her arm, as if her fear had just been transmitted to Sal. Visitors. Vultures. There were no difference to Sal for she would hide from both all the same. They will see her. They will see her. Sal fiddled with the envelope she found laying by her side. 

The other woman gathered clothes, money and a few objects in a small tampipi. But as soon as she’d placed them on the box, she overturned everything again as she searched for something, cursing under her breath. 

“We’re losing a few minutes by the hour.” she muttered to herself before turning to Sal .”Just follow me, we can ask for Nana Caluya’s help for shelter.” 

“Nana?” 

“ She’s from the Le clan so she will probably be sympathetic to us.” 

The woman turned at her. The urgency in her voice rising to one Sal knew well, annoyance. The woman snatched at the envelope on Sal’s hand. 

“This is mine!” 

“Sorry.” 

The woman hugged the letter to her chest. A slight reprieve from the sight of her rushing around. But it was not for long, the woman dragged her again by the hand as she spouted orders and practically dragged Sal to a humbler, almost unused staircase in the Hospicio leading to the backyard. 

Neighing of horses. It was almost a distant memory but the same nervousness is still there. 

The other woman cursed before stacking them both inside an old stable filled with old, and broken furniture and other disposed belongings. 

“I punito Casa, tis troa.” 

Sal stole a peek through the wooden slits of the stable. From afar, there stood a man she thought she might’ve known with the way he dressed. All mercantile seemed to wear the same clothing like a uniform of some sort. All dull gray sticks they were. Beside him was aman who wore the same clothes as the constable. 

“Why is the constable with them?” Sal asked. 

The woman tapped her head down and hushed at her. 

“The constable-” 

“That’s not Rocco.” 

“Why would someone like that be here?” 

The woman sighed loud before whispering. “Our priority is escape. We can go” 

“With Nana Caluya and the others.” Sal echoed. 

“Good, I-” 

“I don’t know them.” Sal stared at the tangle of broken furniture 

like a spiderweb, a familiar web. “I might know the other man outside.” 

The woman gripped Sal’s hands. “You’re crazy! Have you forgotten you almost died? What do you intend to do? Just waltz outside those evil men?” 

“Evil?” Sal whispered to herself. 

“They don’t protect us.The Mercantile don’t protect us. You should’ve understood that.” 

She searched the face of the woman whose face almost reflected her own, eyes furled in anger, brows furrowed. Anger. Annoyance. It must have been logical to agree to the statement and yet, it seems that it does not make sense the way it does to this woman. 

The weight in her hest started to grow, the same weight she carried at the Casa before. Compelling her to stand to her full height, short as it may be. That weight, she finally knew its name. Anger. Indignance. 

“What is my name?” 

She stared the woman down. 

The woman hissed at her to get down and when that did not work, she pulled at her arm to try to get her down. 

But Sal stood, planted her small feet on the ground. 

“I don’t know all those people you tell me.” 

“They’re all wonderful people, I tell you. So if you just.” 

“Mi esiro les Casa.” Sal waited for the woman’s reply. 

“What are you talking about? I can’t understand.” there was a pause. A staccato at her words, like she’s wondering on what to say unlike the total confidence of her delivery before. 

“ I am Salice Nabiaty of the Cuorre and I am a runaway.” 

Sal waited for the scorn. Waited for the disgust from hearing that name from her. Yet, only green eyes like her own stared back at her. 

“You’re deluded. The Cuorre only has a son.” 

Of course, she was stupid. Not thinking straight as she always was. Out in the woods, maybe it can accept her, swallow her whole. She wrangled away from the woman’s grasp and ventured towards the tangle of furniture. 

The woman pulled at her skirt, but was easily warded off when her tampipi spilled open. 

Sal ran away. Out in the woods, running straight towards the thick leaves. She ran until the wind was louder than the words repeating, hounding her mind. 

And it stopped. Out in front of her was the long line of the riverbank. A lone carriage dotted the side leading to the bridge. The wind rustled louder than any conversation or a human word could. The place, the Hospicio was too wide, too big. Sal walked towards the empty carriage, and finding it open, climbed inside where she fell asleep.