Julie came today because she wanted to speak with Kenneth first.
"Kenneth, I'm really sorry," she said softly.
The fear, worry, and guilt in her eyes were unmistakable—especially knowing she wouldn't be performing with the band as a guest for now.
Kenneth sighed and gently patted her shoulder. He understood her. He had no intention of forcing her.
"It's okay, Julie. Take your time."
He ruffled her hair, earning a small smile.
"I'm really sorry," she repeated.
"Julie, it's fine," he said calmly. "I know you'll return to the stage someday. People will understand."
"Thank you. I'll make it up to everyone," she replied.
Kenneth chuckled softly. "Yep. The fans will be waiting. For now, let's just say the Pop Princess is taking a break."
"Hey! People might hear you," Julie scolded him, lightly hitting his arm.
"Julie? Have you two talked already?" Jason asked.
Julie nodded. "I'm heading out now." She waved at them.
"Be careful," Jason said as they watched her leave.
Once Julie was out of sight, Kenneth released a deep breath.
"Something wrong, Ken?" Jason asked.
"I just hope fear doesn't consume her," Kenneth said quietly. "She's trying so hard to hold everything together."
"Ken," Jason replied, patting his shoulder, "she's strong. And she's not alone anymore."
Kenneth nodded—but his expression remained troubled.
"Still… we need to move faster." He turned to Jason. "Did you talk to Crisha's mother?"
Jason hesitated, his eyes dropping briefly before he answered.
"Yeah… about the passbook. Tita gave me these."
He handed over several receipts—the account-opening slip, deposit records, transfer history, everything she still had.
"We don't have the actual passbook," Jason said. "Is this enough to trace it?"
Kenneth examined the papers carefully—the dates, deposits, withdrawals, and the listed bank.
"Maybe," he said slowly. "But officially, only Crisha's mother can inquire—not us. We'll need to convince Tita."
Jason sighed. "She's still too sensitive. She might break down again."
Kenneth understood. He wasn't insensitive to her pain.
As he studied the receipts again, his brows furrowed.
This bank is well-known. Reliable.
Wait—
"Ken?" Jason called.
"Ah—nothing," Kenneth replied. "My mom knows someone from this bank. Still, protocols are strict. We need Tita's consent. Let's dig deeper—where the money was withdrawn and who did it. I'll talk to Cielo."
He placed a hand on Jason's shoulder. "Thank you. I know convincing Tita wasn't easy."
Jason only nodded.
He really is a good person, Kenneth thought.
Now, he needed to speak with Cielo.
*****
"So this was Tita's last transaction?" Dave asked, arms crossed, deep in thought.
"Yes," Kenneth replied. "These include the account opening, deposits, and her over-the-counter withdrawals—up until the week before Crisha died. After that, the passbook disappeared."
Cielo stayed silent, carefully reviewing the receipts laid out on the table. Dave noticed him pause at the final slip.
"This date…" Cielo said slowly. "There's a three-day gap after Crisha died. This was Tita's last transaction—the same day she met Dawn's group."
Kenneth nodded. "That was when Kelly saw Crisha hand the passbook to Dawn."
"And after that," Dave added grimly, "they pushed her."
"This doesn't make sense," Dave continued. "They're minors. They can't withdraw money without authority."
"Unless it was planned," Kenneth said.
Dave looked sharply at him. "Planned? Even then—banks don't make it easy."
He stopped mid-sentence, realization dawning.
"…Unless someone else used the passbook."
"But who?" Kenneth asked.
"The passbook requires the mother's signature, valid ID, or an authorization letter," Cielo said, frowning. "Legal age rules apply. Someone helped them."
"This was intentional," Kenneth said firmly. "Dawn knew about the money."
"We know Dawn got the passbook—we have proof," Dave said. "But who orchestrated everything?"
Cielo exhaled slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. "We have evidence—but no motive. Why take the passbook? And why push Crisha?"
"I spoke with my mom," Kenneth said. "She knows the bank manager—but we can't expect details. There are protocols to protect their staff."
"That's fine," Dave replied. "We don't need everything yet."
"Ken," Cielo added, organizing the receipts, "ask your mom something simple—whether the account is still active."
Kenneth nodded. "I'll try."
"Cielo," Dave said seriously, "you should also talk to Tita. Not just Jason. You're close to Crisha's family."
Cielo went quiet, jaw tightening slightly.
"…It'll hurt her," he admitted. "But we need her. She's the only one with the authority to trace everything."
"She was so hopeful Crisha would recover," Kenneth said softly. "And instead… this."
His fist clenched.
Silence settled between them.
They had receipts—but no answers.
Crisha's mother was the only key.
But for her, the cost was unbearable.
A year had passed.
The pain was still raw.
"Let's stop here for today," Kenneth finally said. "We'll hope Mom agrees—and that we can at least confirm whether the passbook is still active."
"Yeah," Dave murmured.
This is really getting messy, he thought.