So many secrets had been revealed that day, and with them came sorrows that could no longer be hidden. Pak Ato and Liyas were left stranded in the weight of their own grief—one listening, the other confessing, as truths long buried were finally spoken aloud.
When Liyas left, she did so in tears. Pak Ato, who had been so harsh when she first arrived that afternoon, now responded only with silence. No anger, no rejection—just the quiet confusion of a man unsure of his own heart. Could it really be true, all of these stories?
He had even begged her to stay, to not leave, to give their relationship a chance to mend if she truly was his daughter. But Liyas' heart was set. There was still one promise left to fulfill for her late mother: meeting that man.
Pak Ato's thoughts drifted toward Tiara, and the ache grew sharper. The women in his life seemed doomed to bear the deepest wounds. Perhaps that was why women were created to become mothers—capable of enduring pain that men could never carry.
As for Liyas, her resolve was final. Even if she would return someday, today she had to walk away.
But what about Nina? Liyas had yet to apologize to her. And yet, what good would it do? Seeing Nina's condition only sharpened her guilt. Meeting her would only reopen wounds. She would carry her love in silence, letting it remain pure and eternal, even if it meant disappearing from her life.
---
That evening, I sat in my rented room, pretending to read the philosophy books neatly lined up on my shelf. But the words wouldn't settle in my heart. I was restless.
Earlier, I had promised to stop by the "Kembang Setaman" flower shop, but I hadn't gone. Not because of Nina, though the thought of breaking my promise stung.
No—what unsettled me most was the phone call I had just received from my parents in the far east of the country. They wanted me to come home during the next semester break. It had been years since I last saw them, not since I was in high school. No wonder this longing gnawed at me.
My stomach growled. Strange—too early for dinner. Still, hunger demanded. I set my book aside and decided to buy food from the little food stall between my place and the flower shop.
At the stall, as I waited for my order to be wrapped, the television caught my attention. The evening news was reporting the release of a convicted drug lord. He had served twenty years, the longest sentence for one of the biggest smuggling cases in the nation. His name: Bayu Arianto.
The name hit me like a jolt. I had heard it before. Where? When?
And then it clicked. Could it be the same Bayu Arianto that Pak Ato once mentioned—the friend who betrayed him and ended up in prison?
The thought wouldn't leave me. So instead of heading back to my room, I turned my steps toward the flower shop. I needed to tell Pak Ato what I'd heard. And maybe, just maybe, I would see Nina too.
---
Chapter 16
But what I found nearly stopped me cold.
Right there in front of the flower shop, Pak Ato was in a heated argument with a man whose ragged clothes and unkempt appearance made him look like he had just crawled out of exile. Nearby stood the young man I had seen earlier with Pak Ato, his face tight with tension as he watched the confrontation unfold.
I crept closer, straining to hear.
"This is the moment I've waited for, Ato!" the man snarled. "The moment I take my revenge!"
His right hand was hidden beneath his shirt, as if clutching something. Then his gaze shifted to the young man.
"And you—bastard child! Don't think I don't know who you are. You're not my son. You're filth, just like your parents. Your father is standing right here, and your mother… she was nothing but a street whore. If she were still alive, she would've witnessed this moment with her own eyes. Ha! Ha!"
The words dripped with venom.
I froze, heart pounding. Could it be true? Was this man… Bayu?
Fury erupted. Pak Ato lunged, but before he could strike, the man drew a gun and leveled it at him.
Everything happened in a blur. The young man beside him kicked the weapon from his hand and smashed his fist into the man's face. The gun clattered to the ground. Pak Ato lunged again, trying to subdue him.
I ran forward instinctively.
But Bayu wasn't finished. In one swift motion, he snatched the gun back, swung it up, and aimed straight at Pak Ato.
I didn't think. I just moved. Throwing myself at Pak Ato, shoving him aside—
Bang!
The gun went off. Pain exploded in my chest, white-hot, searing straight to my heart. I collapsed.
The last thing I saw before darkness claimed me was the young man—Liyas—pummeling Bayu with a storm of fists, his rage fueled by years of buried pain and tears.
---
Chapter 17
When I opened my eyes, everything was blurred. A cramped space, the wail of a siren, faces hovering above me. Slowly, they came into focus—Pak Ato, Liyas, and two men in white uniforms.
I realized then: I was in an ambulance.
Pak Ato wept beside me. Liyas gripped the IV bag, his eyes red but steady. I glanced down—my chest was bare, bound in white bandages stained with blood.
"You'll be okay, son. Just hold on," Pak Ato said, voice trembling.
I tried to reply but couldn't. Fear swallowed me whole. My body screamed with pain, yet my mind drifted away.
Suddenly, memories began to flicker—arriving in this city, my tiny rented room, the flower shop, the park, Nina's smile… Everything flashing, overlapping, fading.
Then, a vision: a bright figure of light, impossible to describe, forming into a human shape. It radiated warmth, not fear. And it spoke—though not in any language I knew, I understood it perfectly.
"Speak your last wish to them."
My vision cleared again. Everyone was watching me, waiting. My chest burned, my breath faltered, but I forced the words out.
"Tell my parents… tell my mother…" I gasped, choking on the pain. Then, one last plea:
"Give my eyes… to Nina."
My lungs rattled. My body shivered violently before a strange calm took over.
Cold spread from my fingertips to every corner of me.
With the last breath I could muster, I whispered:
> "Ashhadu an laa ilaaha illallah…
wa ashhadu anna Muhammadar rasulullah…"
And then—silence.