That afternoon, a light drizzle began to soak the Batavia soil, creating a calming scent of petrichor. Anne Marie found "Elias" taking shelter under the eaves of a textile shop. With a sincere smile, the eighteen-year-old girl invited Julian to stop by her house.
"Brother Adrian isn't feeling well after working at the docks earlier," Anne Marie said, holding her paper umbrella. "Mother said if you have no place for dinner, you may come. Mother wants to thank you for looking out for us at the coffee stall yesterday."
Julian hesitated, but his heart longed to see the innermost part of their lives. He followed Anne Marie through increasingly narrow alleys until they arrived at the bamboo house. Inside, the room felt warm with the glow of oil lamps and the aroma of kitchen spices.
Ibu Siti was sitting on the floor, grinding chili on a stone mortar. When she saw Julian, her movements stopped for a moment. Her wise eyes stared at Julian with an expression that was hard to decipher—as if she saw a ghost from her past in Julian's face.
"Please, sit down, Tuan Elias," Siti's voice was soft yet authoritative. "Our house is small, but it is enough for shelter."
Adrian emerged from behind a fabric curtain that partitioned the room, his face pale but his eyes remained sharp. He sat cross-legged in front of Julian, still with the same guarded stance. "You are very persistent for a writer, Elias. Why are you so interested in a family of dock porters like us?"
Julian swallowed hard, trying to find words that wouldn't blow his cover but still held truth. "I see something in you, Adrian. Something I don't find in the officials up there. You have the respect of the people without having to force it."
Siti served a plate of warm Nasi Liwet with tofu and tempeh. As they ate together in silence, Julian noticed how harmonious they were. Adrian always put his mother first, and Anne Marie meticulously ensured her brother ate enough.
"Blood never lies, Tuan," Siti suddenly spoke, her voice almost a whisper. "Whatever you are looking for here, I hope you do not bring a storm to our little home. My children have suffered enough for a name they never possessed."
Julian froze. Did Siti know who he really was? Was his physical resemblance to his father so obvious to the woman his father had once loved? Julian's indecision peaked. He wanted to kneel and apologize on behalf of his entire family in the Netherlands, but he knew it would only shatter the peace they were enjoying over a simple plate of rice.
That night, as he said his goodbyes, Adrian patted Julian's shoulder. A brief touch, but it felt like the first acknowledgment of friendship. "Come again tomorrow. There is a community meeting to discuss village security. You can learn a lot for your book."