Forty Eight

It’s been almost a week since we moved here to Cavite, and our stay has been okay. Mama hasn’t been asking too many questions; she’s been busy because she really likes Jaxon. I’ve been enjoying myself too because Mama’s cooking is delicious. Jaxon doesn’t need to go far to get my cravings; Mama often knows exactly what my taste buds are looking for.

She said we’re almost as picky as she was when she was pregnant with me and Lola, her mother. Her mother used to cook for her when she was alive. I was only six years old when she passed away from diabetes. So when I grew up, Mama also warned me about sweets or sources of sugar, like chocolates, rice, cake, and ice cream.

It’s just the five of us at home—Mama, Sam, Zain, Kris, and me. Jaxon and Cain aren’t here; they left together for something important. But from what I heard, they’re not going to the same place. It’s almost two in the afternoon, and I’m so bored. I wanted to go out, maybe to the mall. I just want to buy some things for