Chapter 3: Panfilo's Despair
Panfilo had always found solace in his work, even when it meant being thousands of miles away from home. The rhythmic clang of metal, the hum of machinery, and the camaraderie of his fellow workers provided a temporary distraction from the gnawing loneliness that came with being separated from Melinda. But that evening, as he sat down for a meal in the crowded mess hall of the construction site, his phone buzzed insistently, shattering his brief moment of peace.
The message that awaited him was from a neighbor back in the Philippines, and its contents made his blood run cold. "Panfilo, I don't know how to tell you this, but your house... it burned down last night. We can't find Melinda anywhere. I'm so sorry."
Panfilo stared at the screen, the words blurring as tears filled his eyes. His heart pounded in his chest, and a cold sweat broke out on his forehead. "No," he whispered to himself, shaking his head in disbelief. "This can't be happening."
He fumbled with his phone, his fingers trembling as he tried to call the neighbor. The line rang once, twice, and then connected. "Hello? Panfilo?" The voice on the other end was thick with concern.
"Tony, what happened?" Panfilo's voice was barely more than a choked whisper. "Where's Melinda? Is she okay?"
Tony hesitated, the silence on the line stretching unbearably. "Panfilo, we don't know. The house is gone, completely destroyed. We searched everywhere, but there's no sign of her."
Panic surged through Panfilo, tightening his throat and making it hard to breathe. "I need to come home. I need to find her," he said, his voice desperate.
"You do what you need to do, Panfilo. We're all praying for you," Tony said softly before the call ended.
Panfilo sat there, staring blankly at his phone. His hands clenched into fists, knuckles white with tension. He had to get home, had to find Melinda. Without wasting another moment, he stood up and headed to his supervisor's office.
The supervisor, Ahmed, looked up as Panfilo entered, noting the distress on his face. "Panfilo, what's wrong?"
"I need to go home," Panfilo said, his voice breaking. "There's been an emergency. My house burned down, and my wife is missing. I need to find her."
Ahmed's expression softened with sympathy. "I'm so sorry to hear that, Panfilo. Of course, you need to go. I'll help you arrange a flight back as soon as possible."
True to his word, Ahmed quickly made the necessary arrangements. Within hours, Panfilo was on a plane back to the Philippines, his heart heavy with dread and anxiety. The flight felt interminable, every minute stretching into an eternity as he replayed the last conversation he had with Melinda over and over in his mind.
As the plane descended into Manila, Panfilo's thoughts were consumed by a single, desperate hope: that he would find Melinda safe and sound. But as he disembarked and made his way through the bustling airport, the reality of his situation began to sink in. His beloved wife was missing, and he had no idea where to start looking.
He took a taxi to the mountain village where they had lived, the familiar landscape now tinged with an eerie sense of foreboding. As the taxi wound its way up the narrow, twisting roads, Panfilo felt a lump form in his throat. The village came into view, and his heart clenched painfully at the sight of the charred remains of his home.
The taxi came to a stop, and Panfilo stepped out, his legs unsteady. The smell of smoke lingered in the air, and the sight of the blackened, crumbling structure brought tears to his eyes. Villagers gathered around, their faces somber as they watched him approach.
"Panfilo," Tony called out, stepping forward. "I'm so sorry, my friend. We've looked everywhere, but we can't find Melinda."
Panfilo nodded, swallowing hard against the lump in his throat. "I need to talk to the authorities," he said, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I need to do something."
Tony placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. "We'll take you to the police station. Maybe they can help."
The journey to the nearest police station felt surreal, as if Panfilo were moving through a nightmare from which he couldn't wake. The officers listened to his story with grim faces, taking down details and asking questions, but their responses did little to assuage his fears.
"We'll do everything we can to find your wife," one of the officers said, his tone serious. "But you need to understand that the forest is vast and difficult to search. We'll need time."
Time. It was the one thing Panfilo felt he didn't have. "Please," he begged, his voice cracking. "You have to find her. She's pregnant. She needs help."
The officer nodded sympathetically. "We understand, Mr. Reyes. We'll organize search parties and start looking immediately. But you need to prepare yourself. It might take days, even weeks."
Days turned into weeks, and the search yielded no results. Panfilo joined the search parties, combing through the dense forest with a dogged determination that bordered on obsession. Each day, he returned to the village exhausted and empty-handed, his hope dwindling with each passing moment.
One evening, as he sat on a makeshift bench near the ruins of his home, Tony approached him, a concerned look on his face. "Panfilo, you've been pushing yourself too hard. You need to rest."
"I can't rest," Panfilo said, his voice hollow. "Not until I find her."
"I know," Tony said gently. "But you need to take care of yourself too. Melinda wouldn't want you to destroy yourself like this."
Panfilo sighed, rubbing his eyes. "I just feel so helpless, Tony. I should have been here. I should have protected her."
"You can't blame yourself for this," Tony said firmly. "You were doing what you thought was best for your family. No one could have predicted this."
The days dragged on, each one a torturous reminder of Melinda's absence. Panfilo tried to keep himself busy, helping the villagers and joining the search whenever possible, but the gnawing despair never left him. Every night, he lay awake, staring at the ceiling, his mind haunted by images of Melinda and their unborn child.
One morning, as he was preparing to join another search party, a thought struck him. There had been reports of rebel activity in the area in recent months, whispers of a violent group causing havoc in the remote villages. Could they have had something to do with Melinda's disappearance?
He brought his suspicions to the authorities, who listened with a mix of concern and skepticism. "We'll look into it," one of the officers assured him. "But these groups are elusive. It won't be easy."
Despite the grim outlook, Panfilo clung to this new thread of hope. He began asking around, trying to gather any information he could about the rebels. The villagers were hesitant to talk, fear evident in their eyes, but eventually, he pieced together enough to form a rough idea of where the rebels might be hiding.
Desperate and running out of options, Panfilo decided to take matters into his own hands. He sought out a local guide who was familiar with the forest and its hidden dangers. The guide, a wiry man named Luis, agreed to help for a modest fee.
"It's dangerous out there," Luis warned as they set out early one morning. "These rebels are ruthless. You need to be prepared for anything."
"I'm willing to take the risk," Panfilo replied, determination hardening his voice. "I need to find my wife."
The days spent trekking through the dense forest were grueling. Panfilo pushed himself to the limit, driven by a relentless need to find Melinda. Luis led him through treacherous terrain, avoiding known rebel camps and searching for any signs that might lead them to Melinda.
One evening, as they set up camp, Luis turned to Panfilo, his expression serious. "I need to know, Panfilo. Why are you so sure the rebels have something to do with your wife's disappearance?"
Panfilo stared into the flickering flames of their campfire, his mind racing with memories of that fateful day. "It's just a feeling," he admitted. "The timing, the reports of rebel activity. It all seems too coincidental."
Luis nodded, his face thoughtful. "I understand. We'll keep searching. But you need to be prepared for whatever we might find."
The nights in the forest were long and filled with eerie sounds. Panfilo lay awake, listening to the rustling leaves and distant animal calls, his thoughts consumed by Melinda. He prayed for her safety, begged for a sign, anything to guide him to her.
On the fifth day of their search, they stumbled upon a small, abandoned camp. It was a grim sight, with remnants of a violent struggle evident in the broken branches and scattered belongings. Panfilo's heart pounded as he sifted through the debris, searching for any clue that might lead him to Melinda.
"Over here," Luis called, holding up a torn piece of fabric.
Panfilo rushed over, his breath catching in his throat. The fabric was from a dress he recognized – Melinda's favorite. His hands trembled as he took it from Luis, tears welling in his eyes. "This is hers," he whispered, clutching the fabric to his chest. "