Chapter 18: Presidente
The Kawit guards, who had been standing as still as statues, flinched when the door to the President's office suddenly swung open. Trivino almost spat out the coffee in his mouth. I slowly placed the cookie I had been about to bite back onto the plate.
I did not recognize the insignias of the Filipino Army, but only a general would be brazen enough to storm out of his president's office. The face beneath the peaked cap was twisted in an indescribable angry expression. His thin eyebrows clashed fiercely, veins bulged at his temples, and his cheeks sank inward as he gritted his teeth.
If he had drawn his sidearm and shot everyone in the room, I would not have been surprised.
"Heneral Luna," Colonel Ola, who had returned just after the two ladies left, was the first to speak. "Is everything all right?"
Antonio Luna. It was only then that I realized I was looking at none other than the man himself, the author of La Independencia. He looked just as I had imagined: as warlike as his publication.
His burning gaze flicked to Colonel Ola, then to the rest of us at the table, before settling on me. I thought he might at least soften his expression in the presence of guests, but he did not. Instead, he turned away and stormed toward the exit. His boots thundered against the floor, and he slammed the door behind him.
Whatever had happened inside that office had not gone well.
"Ah," Colonel Ola scratched his head and chuckled nervously. "Excuse me, Gobernador, I'll go check on the President."
Once again, the three of us were left alone in silence. So many things had happened that day that, for a moment, I doubted whether Heneral Luna's outburst had actually happened.