That night, my husband and I collapsed beside the hospital bed at the Philippine General Hospital, Manila, holding our twin babies who had just been saved by the skin of their teeth. Looking at the IV tubes and monitor wires stuck in our babies’ arms, I choked up and screamed in the middle of the NICU hallway:

— “It’s okay if Nanay doesn’t love us, why are you taking it out on the two of us?”

My voice echoed, causing the entire angkan on my husband’s side to fall silent. The sisters-in-law trembled and looked at each other; then one of them exclaimed in shock:

— “It turns out that Nanay has been resentful all this time because TCT Ba let Kuya Marco be the head, while Tito Noel and his wife didn’t get any part of it…”

Each word fell like a knife. Everyone gradually understood the underlying cause: Nanay Cora had been holding a grudge for many years, afraid that my husband and I would fight over the “empty-handed” couple, so she was cruel to her daughter-in-law; no one expected her to take her anger out on her two little grandchildren.

Tatay Lando—who was bedridden—also burst into tears, trying to raise his hand as if to stop her. The brothers and sisters-in-law were stunned: some bowed their heads, others cursed each other loudly, shifting all the blame.

Outside the NICU door, among the chaotic relatives, Nanay Cora still held a plastic folder containing land ownership papers—Transfer Certificate of Title, an Owner’s Duplicate issued by the Registry of Deeds—to her chest, muttering in Tagalog with a bitter tone:

“Lupang ito… lupa ko ’to… walang makakakuha…”

No one dared to come near. Everyone understood: a TCT—just a piece of paper—had turned the mother-child relationship and the grandmother-grandchild relationship into an abyss. Meanwhile, in the glass room, the two magkambals gasped for breath under the white light, as if reminding everyone that there were things more precious than any piece of land—that was life and human hearts.

Pale dawn fell on the tiled roof of PGH – Philippine General Hospital. Outside the NICU window, the two magkambals breathed more evenly under the white light. Doctor Santos stepped out, his voice low:
— It’s okay now. The babies were admitted to the hospital in a state of dehydration, hypoglycemia, and mild hypothermia due to improper feeding and inappropriate folk intervention. We will report to society according to regulations.

I held Marco’s hand tightly. The social worker Ms. Reyes accompanied the doctor, spreading the files on the stainless steel table:
— According to the law, the hospital will transfer the referral to DSWD and WCPC (Women and Children Protection Center) of PNP. You need to sign the medical abstract and incident report. If the family has child neglect/abuse behavior, please set up a blotter in the barangay hall of PGH to protect the babies.

I signed, my hands shaking. Marco signed, his eyes red.

Outside the hallway, Nanay Cora still hugged the plastic folder containing the TCT tightly to her chest. Tatay Lando sat in a wheelchair, his hands shaking. The hipags huddled against the wall, silent as rocks. I walked over and looked straight at Nanay:

I don’t need land. I need my children to live. From now on, Nanay cannot be alone with the children. I have already reported to DSWD.

Nanay jumped, hugging the plastic cover tighter:

Lupang ito…

Don’t use “land” to scare me, Nanay. That piece of paper cannot save lives.

Marco stepped forward, his voice choked:

Mom… I beg you. I take all the blame. But from today, I will go back to Mandaluyong with my wife. If you want to see your child, there must be someone to supervise.

A tanod from the barangay accompanied Ms. Reyes and quickly wrote down the undertaking: “No contact with newborns without their parents”, “No use of suob, steaming/applying leaves, giving water/diluting milk”. Nanay Cora’s lips trembled, she did not sign. Tatay Lando suddenly tapped his hand on the wheelchair, signaling. Hipag quickly put the pen in his hand. Each distorted stroke appeared: “PUMIRMA KA.” The whole hallway fell silent. Nanay finally signed.

In the afternoon, the barangay hall of the PGH area set up a blotter. Ms. Reyes gave further instructions:
— If the family still obstructs medical care, you can file an inquest at the WCPC under RA 7610 (Protection of Children from Abuse). We will follow this case until the children are safely discharged.

At night, I went alone to the small chapel of the hospital. The stained glass windows cast red, blue, and purple streaks on the floor. I put my hand on my chest and whispered:
— I do not resent. But I will not compromise.

Out in the hallway, Marco was waiting, holding an old envelope in his hand. He handed it to me:
— Tatay told the nurse to search the drawer… this is a notarized copy that Dad kept for himself.

I opened it: “Deed of Donation – Inter Vivos.” Donor: Marco L. Dela Cruz (my husband’s name). Recipient: “The Twins, as bare owners, represented by their mother.” Usufruct for life: Tatay Lando & Nanay Cora. ​​Date of signing: one month ago, with notary stamp and Registry of Deeds received annotation. I looked at Marco in shock:
— You transferred bare ownership to my name… before everything broke out?

Marco nodded, eyes filled with tears:
— Dad was afraid the house would be destroyed because of “land”. Dad said: “If land belongs to the future, the present will be less hateful.” I kept the Owner’s Duplicate. Nanay only held the photocopy cover. Dad asked me to give the real copy back to my wife, so that I could be protected.

I hugged the envelope tightly, feeling like someone had just pulled me back from the edge.

Late at night, Nanay quietly pushed Tatay to the front of the NICU. She didn’t dare look up at me. I stood to the side. Through the glass, the two children moved their tiny fingers. Tatay struggled to write a few more words on the paper: “IPASA SA APO.” His eyes were moist. Nanay sniffed, pressing the plastic cover to his chest as if hugging a sinking rock.

Two days later, DSWD held a case conference right at PGH: hospital, barangay, WCPC, both families. Ms. Reyes said firmly:

The safety plan includes:

The two children will only return home when conditions are safe

Nanay Cora cannot be alone with the child; all care must follow medical orders.

Related assets are temporarily handed over to the child’s mother for safekeeping, pending the family lawyer’s review.

Organize family mediation for the dispute with Tito Noel to separate property conflicts from the child’s interests.

Tito Noel said something harsh. Tanod reminded me. I calmly said:

— If you need land, we will talk about it at mediation. And this is a hospital. Here, there are only human lives.

The meeting ended. I held the Deed envelope, walking down the long hallway smelling of disinfectant. Marco held my hand:

— Let’s temporarily rent a bedspace near Taft. When the child is well, we will move to Mandaluyong. Nanay wants to see her, I will make an appointment. Step by step.

I nodded slightly. Through the glass, the two children opened their hands slightly as if touching the light. I felt my heart open too — not to condone, but to set boundaries and forgive in the right place.

That night, I texted Ms. Reyes: “I agree to sue under RA 7610 if there is a repeat offense. For now, please order limited individual contact. And please schedule a mediation to separate assets.”

The NICU window reflected my silhouette — a mother standing straight in the middle of the hospital hallway. Behind me, somewhere, a Rosary was whispered, in front, two tiny hearts were learning to beat evenly. I placed my hand on the envelope, on my chest, and smiled very slightly:

— The land will belong to the future. The present belongs to the two children