I had just packed a couple of books and was winding up my laptop charger when Tita Rosa appeared at my door, waving some bills in my direction. “Take it,” she said.

I took the money and counted. “It’s five hundred pesos. What’s this for?”

“Your dog. Three weeks without an accident. I keep my promises.”

“That was a joke,” I said. “You can keep your money, so long as you remember that sometimes I am right.”

“So it was a joke?” She laughed wryly. “Buy something funny. You have to keep the money. It’s already in my accounting.” Tita Rosa looked at my bag and gave me a once-over, noting I was dressed to go out. “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to Chet’s.”

She shook her head.

“I thought you liked Chet.”

“Who doesn’t like Chet?”

“I’m working on my book and the apartment has really good internet,” I said.

“What’s wrong with the internet at Santa Tomas?”

“The aircon in the library is weak,” I lied. I picked up my bag. “Besides, Chet isn’t even there.”

My aunt raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. “Well, as long as you know what you’re doing.” Which she knew for a fact I did not. “Have you asked Chet about Laird?”

“I have asked everyone about Laird, including Chet, and no one knows what happened to him. What did the American embassy say?”

There had been some meeting between Tita Remi and her family and an agent the day before.

“They said that all American citizens had been warned not to go to Mindanao.”

“Remember, Tita,” I said. “We know hardly anything about Laird. What if he joined the New People’s Army or some other fringe group? People do that sort of thing.” I actually didn’t know if people did or even what fringe groups were operating in the region other than Abu Sayyaf, but it was worth considering.

She said, “But he’s engaged to be married.”

“Then why was he here?”