The night around Batavia Station felt like a heat haze that wouldn't cool down. Julian walked with guarded steps, his cap pulled low. Under the dim oil lamps, he saw rows of wooden carts selling food to dock workers. The smell of burning charcoal and sharp coffee guided him toward a dark corner where an old vendor served his last customers.
There, on a bamboo bench, he saw them. A twenty-year-old youth was stirring coffee with a piece of glowing charcoal inside it. Joss! The hiss broke the silence. Beside him sat an eighteen-year-old girl, watching the crowd with alert eyes.
Their faces bore lines he recognized from his father's portraits, but their skin was darker—a blend of Van de Berg blood and a native woman named Siti.
Julian didn't approach as a messenger of bad news. He steadied his breath, trying to look like a lost traveler, and sat at the edge of the same bench.
"Interesting coffee. Does it taste as good as it sounds?" Julian asked in his still-stiff Malay, trying to open the conversation as lightly as possible.
The youth, Adrian, glanced at Julian with a sharp, unfriendly gaze. He didn't answer, simply sipping his coffee quietly. However, the younger sister, Anne Marie, seemed slightly more open despite maintaining her distance.
"It's Kopi Joss, Tuan. The heat goes all the way inside," Anne Marie replied briefly. Her voice was soft, yet there was a firmness that reminded Julian of Kartikasari's manner of speaking.
"I'm Elias," Julian nodded slightly, giving a smile he hoped looked sincere. "I've only been in Batavia a few weeks. This city... is much more complicated than I imagined."
Adrian set his glass down with a loud clink on the wooden table. "This city isn't complicated if you aren't looking for trouble, Tuan Elias. Usually, white men like you don't sit on these dirty benches unless they are looking for something. Or someone."
Julian felt his heart rate climb. Adrian was incredibly sharp and full of suspicion. "I'm just looking for stories. I hear many things at the docks about people who can survive between two worlds. It's interesting for a writer."
"Writers usually end up as spies or corpses if they ask too many questions," Adrian replied coldly. He stood up, signaling Anne Marie to rise as well. "Come, Anne. Ibu Siti must be waiting at home. She doesn't like us returning too late when the patrols are tight."
Hearing the name Siti, Julian felt his chest tighten. That was the name of the woman in the documents. He desperately wanted to hold them back, to ask about their lives, but he knew one wrong move would make them disappear forever into the labyrinth of the native settlements.
"Until we meet again, Adrian, Anne Marie," Julian said softly as they began to walk away.
Adrian stopped for a moment, turning with a furrowed brow. "How do you know our names? I haven't mentioned them."
Julian froze. He had just made an amateur mistake. He had to think fast to avoid looking like a threat. "I... I heard the vendor call you earlier when I first arrived," Julian lied, keeping his voice as steady as possible.
Adrian stared at him for a long time, his dark eyes seemingly trying to pierce through Julian's head, before finally turning and vanishing into the darkness of the station alley. Julian slumped down, sipping his now-cooling coffee, realizing that approaching his secret family would be far more difficult than facing Friedrich.