It didn’t sound like much to others. But to Roger, it was everything.
A fresh start.
A stable income.
A future he could finally control.
Behind him now, Mang Tino followed slowly, his frail body leaning against a bamboo walking stick polished smooth by years of use. The old man had aged noticeably, his steps more careful, his breathing more measured. But his eyes remained sharp, quietly observant.
“You remember this turn?” Mang Tino asked, his voice low but steady.
Roger nodded without turning.
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