“Help? Just admit you wanted to take it. But remember this: ungrateful children carry the stench of shame forever. No matter how much cologne they use, the filth on their conscience will always come out.”
The neighbors began to gather, murmuring as the smell of bagoong wafted through the air—like a curse impossible to wash away, a reminder of greed that returns to haunt those who committed it.
Carlos and Lina thought that after that day, everything would calm down.
They scrubbed the fish sauce stains scattered around the yard and rinsed it all afternoon, but the nauseating smell lingered.
That night, Carlos woke with a start.
He heard whispers outside—voices near the gate. As he stepped outside, he saw a small plastic bag hanging from the iron gate. Inside was… a fresh jar of bagoong and a handwritten note:
“Those who live in lies carry the stench not on their skin, but in their hearts.”
Carlos froze. Lina hugged him tightly, trembling.
“Honey… maybe Mom sent someone to scare us…”
But Carlos shouted:
“She’s 82 years old! She can’t scare us! Don’t be superstitious!”
Three days later, a summons arrived from Barangay Hall.
Officials were demanding the couple appear to explain the illegal transfer of the property.
When they arrived, Lola Maria was already seated—along with a young lawyer and two police officers.
She was still simply dressed in her barong, but her eyes shone with determination.
Her lawyer turned on a phone and played a recording:
“Just sign here… she’s senile, easily fooled…”
“After the sale, we’ll divide the money and kick her out…”
Lina’s voice echoed clearly in the room.
