Prologue

                                    

                                          

                            
                              
                                
                                
                              
                            
                            
                          
The quiet hum of voices echoed through the rooms of  Pinto de Roca, the old estate bathed in the dim glow of candlelight. Outside, the evening air was still, and the vast vineyard stretched endlessly beyond the house. Inside, the room was filled with soft murmurs of prayers, blending with the gentle rustle of rosary beads as they clicked together in rhythm.
Luna Cortez stood on the outskirts of the gathering, her gaze distant as she stared at the scene before her. Her short, black hair brushed her neck lightly, and she wore a knee-length black dress-simple but elegant enough for the wake. Her dark eyes reflected a quiet sadness she hadn't yet found the words for.
Her mother, Selena, lay in the center of the room, surrounded by white orchids and sampaguita, their sweet fragrance hanging heavily in the air. Luna glanced briefly at her mother's still body in the coffin before looking away, her chest tightening. The woman lying there didn't feel like the vibrant person she had known. This felt like someone else.
At the front of the room, Lola Auring, Luna's grandmother, led the novena with quiet authority. Her silver-streaked hair was pulled back in a neat bun, and she wore a black dress, her sharp features softened by the candlelight. Even in mourning, Lola Auring was strong, her voice steady as she recited the prayers. The women surrounding her-a group of old family friends, mostly her churchmates-followed her lead, their voices blending into a soft, continuous hum.
"Luna, come sit with us," Auring called, her voice gentle but firm. Her sharp eyes softened slightly as she looked at her granddaughter.
"In a bit, Lola," Luna replied, her voice barely above a whisper. She couldn't bring herself to sit yet, not while the weight of the room pressed in on her.
Her father, Josef, stood by the head of the coffin, his tall frame hunched slightly as he stared at his wife's face. His usually pressed short-sleeved shirt hung looser on his shoulders, and his face looked worn, hollow, as if grief had aged him overnight. Josef had always been the quiet strength in the family, but now, he seemed lost in thought, detached from everything around him.
Beside him, Natalia, Luna's older sister, stood tall and composed, but her expression betrayed the tension beneath the surface. She wore a sleeveless black blouse tucked into a neatly pressed skirt, her long jet-black hair falling smoothly down her back. Natalia had always been the one who held the family together-strong, composed, and unwavering-but today, Luna noticed the tightness in her jaw, the way her hands clenched and unclenched as she tried to stay calm.
Luna's attention shifted as the door opened softly, and Mayor Isidro "Sid" Zimmerman stepped into the room. He moved with the confidence of someone used to being the center of attention, his salt-and-pepper hair slicked back and his barong-well-tailored but straining slightly across his chubby frame-neatly pressed. His expression was solemn, but Luna couldn't help but feel a flicker of unease as his gaze lingered a little too long on her mother's coffin.
"Good evening, Mayor," Josef greeted him quietly, his voice rough from days of mourning.Mayor Sid offered a respectful nod, murmuring his condolences as he spoke with Josef. Luna tried to focus on their words, but the soft murmurs of prayer and conversation felt like a distant blur.
Next to arrive was Father Rafael, his hands clasped in prayer as he approached the coffin. The priest had always been a comforting presence in Santa Cruz, his calm demeanor and kind eyes bringing peace to those in grief. He murmured a short prayer for Selena, then turned to Luna, offering her a gentle smile. "She was a good woman, Luna," he said softly. Luna nodded, but the words caught in her throat. She had heard the same phrases over and over since the wake began-words meant to soothe, but they did little to quiet the storm brewing inside her. Ever since her mother's death, Luna had been having visions-dark, unsettling flashes of shadows and something else she couldn't explain. They were just brief, but enough to leave her uneasy. Something wasn't right, but she couldn't tell anyone. Not yet.

"Luna?" A familiar voice snapped her back to reality.

It was Gabe, one of her best friends. He stood beside her now, his tall, lean frame relaxed in a black shirt and jeans. His curly hair, normally messy, was more tamed than usual, though his worried smile was the same. He didn't say much, just stood next to her, a comforting presence when words failed.
"You okay?" Gabe asked, his voice soft, but his concern obvious.
Luna nodded, even though she wasn't sure how to answer. "Yeah... I'm fine," she replied, her voice barely convincing.
Gabe tilted his head, his eyes searching hers. "You sure?"
Luna forced a smile. "Yeah, really."
Gabe didn't push further, though Luna could tell he didn't fully believe her. Behind him, Tessa, their other best friend, lingered by the door, holding a small candle. She wore a simple black dress, her straight black hair neatly combed, and her pale skin stood out in the dim lighting. Tessa hated gatherings like these, but she was here anyway-for Luna.
Tessa's half-Filipino, half-Korean features-her almond-shaped eyes and high cheekbones-were shadowed with uncertainty. She looked around the room as if she didn't quite know where she fit in. Luna offered her a small, tight smile in gratitude, knowing how uncomfortable these settings made her.
Just then, a soft breeze brushed through the open window, causing the candle flames to flicker. Luna blinked, her vision blurring as something dark moved at the edge of her sight. A flicker of movement-twisted shadows, reaching hands-and a cold, distant whisper that sent a shiver down her spine. She gasped softly, her pulse quickening.
"Luna?" Gabe's voice was more urgent now, his concern deepening.
"I'm fine," Luna insisted, though her voice wavered. She wasn't fine. Something was wrong, and whatever it was, it felt closer than ever.The soft murmurs of prayer continued, the room bathed in a dim glow, but the shadows that clung to the edges of Luna's vision seemed to loom darker, more menacing. She could feel it-that cold, creeping sensation that something was coming, something far worse than she could have imagined. Her mother's death hadn't been natural, and Luna knew, deep down, that whatever had taken her mother wasn't done yet.