On Saturday, I visited my in-laws' house alone. My husband, Bryce, was supposed to be with me, but he had an unexpected job so he couldn't come. Since I'm close to Mama Sharon, I thought I'd surprise her with the cookies I baked last night. But when I arrived at their house, I felt different. It was quiet. It was dark. And the door—which is usually open and greeted with a smile from her—was closed.
I decided to enter using their spare key. I called Mama Sharon, but no one answered. The entire house seemed lifeless—no sound from the radio, no smell of coffee, and no movement whatsoever. I texted Papa Fred: "Hi Pa, I'm home. Where are you?" He responded immediately: "I'm out with friends. Sharon is resting. You can head home if you want."
But I had a feeling this wasn't normal. Mama Sharon didn't rest for long, especially when she had visitors. As I stood in the living room, I heard a faint sound from above—like a knock. Faint, but repeated. It scared me. I slowly climbed up to the attic where the sound was coming from.
That attic, you can't open it. Papa Fred always said that no one can go in there. But unexpectedly, there was a key in the lock. I stiffened with nervousness, but I opened the door. Mama Sharon appeared to me—sitting on the floor, pale, her hands and feet tied, and her mouth covered. When she saw me, she cried with fear and relief.
Agad ko siyang tinulungan. Tinanggal ko ang tali at niyakap siya. Nanginginig siya habang bumulong ng, “Ruth… salamat.” Tinulungan ko siyang bumaba, pinainom ng tubig, at tinanong kung ano ang nangyari. Doon niya inamin ang matagal na niyang tinatago—si Papa Fred mismo ang ikinukulong siya. Sabi raw nito, may sakit siya sa pag-iisip. Pero ang totoo, gusto lang siyang alisin sa daan dahil may ibang babae si Fred.
When I heard that, my chest felt like it was going to explode. I immediately called Bryce. He could hardly believe it. He immediately went home, while I called the police. That night was not easy, but in the end, the truth was confirmed. Papa Fred was taken away by the authorities, and Mama Sharon was rushed to the hospital for treatment and trauma counseling.
A few days passed, and Mama Sharon's energy returned. She was slowly building herself up. She moved in with us temporarily, and every day, we tried to make her feel safe. She was smiling again, little by little.
I will never forget that day. A simple visit revealed a secret that had been hidden for a long time. Sometimes, the silence of a house is not peace—but the cry of someone who wants to be free.
