We had reached the outskirts of Manila. As the roads became more glutted and the bus decelerated in the final stirrings before the curfew, everyone was hurrying and speeding, like molecules compressed and slowly turning to liquid. I saw the people rushing along the sidewalks, their hearts keeping time as their slippers pressed along the dirty concrete. I took my phone from my bag and thought of Tita Rosa and Tita Dom. I thought that I should call, but what would I say? And they would not be worrying. I was supposed to be in Baguio for two more nights and for all they knew, I was sitting at Camp John Hay drinking a beer with Inchoy or finishing up dinner at the hotel.

Top Gun was waiting when I descended the bus. He took my bag in silence. I still had the half-full bag of soft drink in my hand. The car was parked close by, watched over by a young man in a singlet and shorts, one of those people who patrolled the parking lots claiming to watch over cars for the rich.

I got into the back seat, at first wondering if I should lie down, but I remembered that the windows were heavily tinted and that I would be sufficiently obscured for safety. We had pulled out of the terminal when I realized that I had no idea where we were going.

“Top Gun, saan tayo pupunta?” I asked.

“To get your passport po,” he replied. “Just rest.”

“My passport? Does my aunt know?”

“She is packing your things. She knows that you are safe.”

As we approached my aunt’s house, I wondered how much she knew. No doubt, she had not been told about Laird but probably instead some vague truth that I had to make a hasty departure, that Chet had learned something that made it in my best interests to leave. She knew well that martial law occasioned such departures. I was, after all, a journalist. I imagined Tita Dom making a joke about it: Ting’s not big into letting people know her travel plans. It was what she did when things were serious. I would explain it all later, when I knew enough to do so. I could not tell them about Laird. I would keep his life to myself. And then I realized, with a chill that extended all over my body, settling in my bowels, that no one would think me capable of keeping such a thing a secret. There was only one way to make sure of my silence.