PART 1

Mom says you never really do anything for this Family.

“It’s always about you.”

Those were the words my sixteen-year-old nephew spoke in front of our entire family.

A few relatives chuckled. Others nodded along. My older sister, Regina, calmly sipped her iced tea as if she had heard nothing at all.

I simply smiled.
“That’s good to know,” I said. “Then I’m sure your mother won’t miss the ₱290,000 I pay every month toward the mortgage on her house.”
The color drained from Regina’s face instantly.

My husband Paolo and I arrived with our two sons, Enzo and Gab. We never liked drawing attention to ourselves.

I brought lechon belly, baked pasta, and several boxes of desserts from Mama’s favorite bakery.

Everyone was having a wonderful time.

Children ran across the grass.

The adults laughed while sharing stories from decades ago.

Then everything changed.

Regina’s son Mika suddenly looked directly at me.
“Aunt Isabel,” he said loudly, “Mom says you always talk about family, but you never give anything back.”

Silence crashed over the gathering.

Mama stopped talking.

Aunt Tess froze with food halfway to her mouth.

My sons stared at me in shock.

And Regina?

She continued drinking her iced tea.

That hurt more than Mika’s accusation.

She allowed her own son to humiliate me.

The boy looked proud of himself. He believed he was defending his mother from a selfish aunt who never helped anyone.

I took a slow breath.

Then I smiled.

“If that’s true,” I said calmly, “then your mother won’t miss the ₱290,000 I send every month to cover her mortgage in Nuvali.”

A spoon clattered onto the table.

Everyone stared.

“What?” Mika whispered.

I looked toward the driveway.

“That SUV your mother drives every day? I bought it. The insurance is under my name because she couldn’t qualify for the loan.”

Every eye turned toward the white vehicle.

“The electricity bill that almost got disconnected last year? I paid it.”

I paused.

“Twice.”

Nobody spoke.

“When Mika’s grades dropped and he needed tutoring, I paid for that too.”

My nephew lowered his head.

“Even the Christmas presents from ‘Santa’ were bought by Paolo and me.”

The silence became unbearable.

I turned to Regina.

“After everything I’ve done, this is the story you tell people about me?”

Tears appeared in her eyes.

But I knew my sister.

Not all tears came from guilt.

Sometimes they were simply another weapon.

“You don’t understand,” she whispered.

Before she could continue, Paolo placed a thick brown envelope on the table.

“Maybe it’s time everyone understood the truth,” he said.

Regina shot to her feet.

“Paolo, don’t!”

But it was too late.

He opened the envelope.

The first document went directly into Mama’s hands.

Within seconds, Mama’s face turned pale.

She gripped the edge of the table and stared at Regina.

“My child,” she whispered. “How could you do this to your own sister?”

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