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The Summons
Ten days later, a letter arrived from Makati. Doña Rosario wanted to see him.
Ramon traveled to the city, anxious and uncertain. Her mansion was vast but quiet, filled with the scent of incense and time. Photographs covered the walls — faded portraits of people long gone.
“Ramon, do you know your real mother’s name?”
He nodded. “Yes. Her name was Luz. She died when I was little.”
The old woman smiled faintly, but her eyes filled with tears. “Luz,” she whispered. “The woman who stole the man I loved fifty years ago.”
Ramon froze.
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