The phone in Alya's hand was still pressed to her ear, even though the call had already disconnected.
Raka's voice continued echoing in her head.
“We found photos of you.”
Not just one.
Several photos.
And all of them had been found inside a suitcase believed to belong to the perpetrator.
Alya stared at the brown folder on her desk. The last page was still open.
The third case has been moved up.
Time remaining: 24 hours.
She closed her eyes for a few moments.
The longer she became involved, the more the game changed.
At first, she had thought the case files were an opportunity to save someone.
Now she was beginning to realize.
Someone really did want to drag her into it.
That night, the air felt colder than usual.
A taxi stopped in the courtyard of the City Police Station.
Alya got out while looking up at the three-story building, still surrounded by official vehicles. Several police officers moved back and forth carrying folders and evidence boxes.
As soon as she entered the lobby, the officer on duty came straight over.
“Good evening. Ms. Alya?”
Alya nodded. “Yes.”
“Raka is waiting for you. I'll take you to him.”
She followed the officer down a long hallway lit by white lights. Photos of former police chiefs, awards, and a board listing wanted individuals hung on the walls.
Alya slowed when she saw several investigators still busy typing reports, even though it was nearly ten at night.
“Raka hasn't gone home yet?” she asked softly.
The officer gave a faint smile. “He rarely goes home when there's still a case to handle.”
They stopped in front of a wooden door.
The officer knocked lightly. “Sir, Ms. Alya is here.”
“Come in.”
Alya let out a quiet breath before opening the door.
The room was simpler than she had imagined.
A desk was covered with brown folders, a laptop that was still on, several empty coffee cups, and an investigation board that took up nearly an entire wall.
Her eyes immediately stopped on the board.
Dimas Pratama's photo was displayed there.
Beside it was Ratu Anindya's.
Then…
Her photo.
The photos were evenly spaced and connected by red thread.
Alya instinctively turned toward Raka.
“Why is my photo up there?”
Raka, who was standing near the window, closed the folder in his hand and gestured for Alya to sit. “Because you're now part of the investigation.”
“Am I a victim?”
“That hasn't been determined yet.”
“A suspect?”
Raka slowly shook his head. “If I considered you a suspect, I wouldn't have invited you into this room.”
Alya pulled out the chair in front of the desk and sat down slowly. “Then what am I?”
“Someone the perpetrator is most likely hunting.”
That answer made the room feel even quieter.
Raka opened a drawer, then lifted the black suitcase found in the old building.
“Our forensic team examined this suitcase. The fingerprints on the outside were deliberately wiped off, but we found several interesting items.”
He opened the suitcase slowly.
Inside were several clear plastic bags containing evidence.
A pair of black gloves.
A hat.
A bottle of mineral water.
A map of Terminal Kota.
And a stack of photos.
Raka took the top photo and placed it in front of Alya.
“Do you recognize this place?”
Alya looked at the photo.
It was the gate to her campus.
In the middle of the photo, she could be seen walking with several books in her arms.
She slowly raised her face.
“That’s me.”
“Correct.”
Raka placed down a second photo.
This time, Alya was buying coffee at a shop near campus.
The third photo showed her reading a book in the library.
The fourth had been taken as she left a convenience store near her boarding house.
Every shot looked like it had been taken while she was under surveillance.
Alya felt the back of her neck prickle.
“Who took all these photos?”
“That’s what we’re trying to find out.”
“When were these photos taken?”
“The oldest one was taken about three weeks ago.”
“Three weeks…”
Alya tried to remember.
During that entire time, she had never felt followed.
She had never seen a suspicious stranger.
She had never realized that a camera was pointed at her.
Raka watched her expression change.
“You really didn't feel like someone was watching you?”
Alya slowly shook her head. “If I had known, I would have reported it.”
Raka nodded slowly, as if he understood her answer. He picked up another photo, but this time he didn't place it on the desk right away.
His expression grew more serious.
“There’s one photo that made me decide to call you here tonight.”
Slowly, he pushed the photo toward Alya.
The moment she saw it, Alya's breath seemed to stop.
The photo showed her smiling between her parents.
An old photo.
Taken on her fourteenth birthday.
In the background was the house that had stood empty since her parents died.
Alya gripped the edge of the desk.
“This photo…”
“Do you recognize it?”
Alya slowly nodded.
“This is my family photo.”
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely.”
“Where is the original?”
“In the family album.”
“Where is that album now?”
“Still at the old house.”
Raka stared at Alya for several seconds before speaking quietly. “That means someone entered that house… or someone has known your family for a long time.”
The words made the hair on the back of Alya's neck stand up.
If all of this really was connected to her family…
Then this game…
Had started long before Dimas Pratama became a victim. The room suddenly felt much quieter.
Alya was still staring at her family photo lying on the desk. She hadn't seen it in years. She was even certain the family album was still stored in the wooden cabinet at her old house, which now stood empty.
In a quiet voice, she asked, “Sir… was this photo really found in that suitcase?”
Raka nodded. “Along with the other photos showing your activities over the past few weeks.”
“But how is that possible? No one has lived in that house since my parents died.”
“That’s what I’m trying to find out.”
Alya drew a long breath. “The last time I went there was almost two years ago. Since then, my older sibling has only stopped by to clean it once in a while.”
Raka opened his notebook. “Was the house ever broken into?”
“Not as far as I know.”
“Have any items ever gone missing?”
Alya tried to remember. “I’ve never checked the place in detail.”
“Then we’ll go there tomorrow.”
Alya looked up. “To my house?”
“I want to make sure there are signs someone has been inside.”
She slowly nodded. “Okay.”
Raka then took a brown envelope from his desk drawer. It looked old, bearing a cracked black wax seal shaped like a judge's gavel.
“Besides the photos, we found this.”
Alya swallowed. “My name…”
“Yes. It says ‘For Alya Mahardika’ on the front. I deliberately didn't open it.”
“Why not?”
“Because the letter is addressed to you. I want you to open it in front of me.”
Alya accepted the envelope. The paper felt rough, as if it had been stored for quite some time. Her fingers trembled as she broke the wax seal.
There was only one sheet of paper inside.
The writing on it had been done in extremely neat black ink.
The trial has not begun.
The defendant is present.
Now it is time to choose.
Trust the police… or trust the truth.
Your choice will determine who dies next.
At the very bottom was a single sentence that left Alya frozen.
The old house holds the first answer. Come before someone else finds it first.
Her hand slowly lowered the letter.
Raka watched Alya's expression change. “What does it say?”
Alya hesitated for several seconds before handing him the letter.
Raka read it carefully. The longer he read, the more serious his expression became.
“The perpetrator wants us to go to your house.”
“Or they’re setting a trap for us.”
“That’s possible too.”
The room fell silent again.
Raka placed the letter on the desk, then leaned back in his chair. “I want to ask you something, and I hope you’ll answer honestly.”
Alya nodded.
“Have you ever received any threats before all this happened?”
“No.”
“Ever had any enemies?”
“Not really.”
“What about your family?”
Alya slowly shook her head. “My father was a teacher. My mother ran a small business from home. As far as I know, they never had problems with anyone.”
“As far as you know.”
That made Alya fall silent.
It was true.
She had never really known what her parents' lives were like outside the house.
Raka opened another folder. “We checked Dimas Pratama's background.”
“What about him?”
“Dimas isn't an ordinary man.”
Alya frowned.
“He worked as an accountant at a law firm.”
“A law firm?”
“Yes. And for the past three months, he had been auditing the company's internal finances.”
“What does that have to do with me?”
“That’s what we haven’t figured out yet.”
Raka then picked up Ratu Anindya's photo.
“Ratu had just been hired as an administrative staff member at the same law firm.”
Alya immediately looked at Raka.
“You mean… the two victims knew each other?”
“Not necessarily. But they were connected through the same place.”
Alya felt something beginning to form a pattern.
“Then… the third victim might also come from that law firm.”
“That’s my guess.”
“But why am I involved?”
“That’s the biggest question in this case.”
Before they could continue, the door was struck with a hard knock.
A police officer rushed in, breathing heavily.
“Raka!”
“What is it?”
“We just received a report from the hospital.”
Raka's expression immediately changed.
“Ratu?”
The officer nodded quickly.
“The victim just regained consciousness.”
“Can she be questioned?”
“She managed to speak briefly.”
“What did she say?”
The officer swallowed before answering, “She said she saw the shooter's face.”
Raka's eyes lit up. “Good. Who was it?”
The officer slowly shook his head.
“The victim didn't give a name.”
“Then what?”
“She only said one sentence before passing out again.”
The room suddenly went silent.
“What did she say?”
The officer looked back and forth between Raka and Alya.
In a quiet voice, he said, “The victim said… ‘Don’t let that woman go to her old house. Someone is waiting for her.’”
Alya felt as if the blood had stopped flowing through her veins.
The perpetrator…
Already knew they were going to that house.
And even more frightening…
The perpetrator seemed to want them to go there. The investigators' room instantly filled with silence.
Alya was still staring at the officer who had just delivered the report from the hospital. The words kept spinning through her mind.
“Don’t let that woman go to her old house. Someone is waiting for her.”
Raka rose from his chair. “Who heard Ratu say that directly?”
“The doctor on duty and a nurse, sir.”
“Make sure all their statements are recorded. Don't miss anything.”
“Yes, sir.”
After the officer left, Raka slowly closed the door. He turned back to Alya, whose face had begun to pale.
“You heard him yourself.”
Alya slowly nodded. “The perpetrator already knows we're going to that house.”
“Or…” Raka paused briefly, “…the perpetrator deliberately wants us to go there.”
Alya clasped her hands to keep him from seeing them tremble. “Then we shouldn't go.”
“That’s exactly what they want.”
“What do you mean?”
Raka walked toward the investigation board. He picked up a marker and drew a red line connecting the photos of Dimas, Ratu, and Alya.
“From the beginning, the perpetrator has always been one step ahead of us. They knew when to kill, who the victims would be, and even how to drag you into this.”
He turned toward Alya.
“But this time, they made one mistake.”
“What mistake?”
“They gave us a clue.”
Alya furrowed her brow.
“The old house.”
“Exactly.” Raka tapped Alya's family photo, still pinned to the board. “If there were nothing in that house, the perpetrator wouldn't have gone to the trouble of mentioning it.”
“But what if it’s a trap?”
“That’s why we won’t go there carelessly.”
At eleven that night, they left the City Police Station.
Raka insisted on driving Alya back to her boarding house.
There wasn't much conversation along the way. Only the sound of the car engine and the drizzle that had begun to soak the city streets.
A few minutes later, Raka broke the silence.
“We’ll leave at eight tomorrow morning.”
Alya turned her gaze from the window. “Straight to the house?”
“Yes.”
“Just the two of us?”
“No.”
Raka gave a faint smile. “I’m not some cop in a movie who goes alone to dangerous places.”
Alya let out a quiet chuckle for the first time since everything had begun.
“Thank goodness.”
“I’ll bring a team.”
The car stopped directly in front of the boarding house gate.
Before Alya got out, Raka called her again.
“Alya.”
“Yes?”
“No matter what happens tonight, don't leave your room.”
“Why?”
“I have a feeling.”
“A feeling?”
“Someone is watching you.”
Alya instinctively turned toward the street, which was growing quiet.
The streetlight flickered softly.
There was no one there.
Yet for some reason, the hair on the back of her neck remained standing.
As soon as she entered her room, Alya locked the door and windows.
She let out a relieved breath.
The moment she set her bag on the desk, her phone vibrated.
A message arrived from an unknown number.
The police won't be able to save you.
Before she could react, a second message appeared.
Look out the window.
Alya's heart immediately began pounding.
She stood frozen.
Her hand slowly pulled the curtain open a crack.
Across the street, directly beneath a dim light, stood a man in a black coat.
His face was hidden by the shadow of his umbrella.
The man didn't move.
He simply stood facing Alya's room.
Her phone vibrated again.
Wave your hand. He's watching you.
Alya quickly closed the curtain. Her breathing grew ragged. She grabbed Raka's business card and immediately dialed the number on it.
The call connected after the second ring.
“Raka.”
“Sir…” Alya's voice trembled. “He's outside my boarding house.”
“What?”
“He's standing across the street.”
“Don't go outside. Stay in your room.”
“I'm scared.”
“I'll be there in five minutes.”
The call ended.
Alya turned off the room's lights so she wouldn't be visible from outside. She sat on the floor hugging her knees, trying to steady her breathing.
Every second felt unbearably long.
Three minutes.
Four minutes.
Five minutes.
She heard a car stop in front of the boarding house.
A moment later, the sound of footsteps and slamming car doors echoed from outside.
Alya peeked through a gap in the curtain.
Raka's car had arrived.
But…
The man in the black coat had disappeared.
All that remained was a small wooden box beneath the streetlight.
Raka and two police officers immediately examined the box.
A few minutes later, Raka knocked on Alya's door.
“It’s safe now. You can open the door.”
Alya slowly opened it.
“Did you catch him?”
Raka shook his head.
“He left before we arrived.”
“What about the box?”
Raka carried the wooden box to the table in Alya's room.
“We haven't opened it yet.”
“Why not?”
“Because your name is written on it.”
The box was no bigger than a shoebox. Carved into the top was the same judge's gavel as the one on the folder and envelope.
With trembling hands, Alya opened the lid.
There were only three things inside.
A shattered man's wristwatch.
A rusty old house key.
And…
A photo.
Alya slowly picked it up.
The moment she saw what was in it, all color drained from her face.
“That’s…” she whispered.
Raka immediately moved closer.
The photo showed a man and a woman standing in front of Alya's old house.
The man was Alya's father.
The woman beside him was not her mother.
And what truly shocked Alya…
Standing behind them was a boy of about ten, his face crossed out with red ink.
On the back of the photo was a handwritten message that had begun to fade.
The first trial begins with the sins of the past.
Find that boy's name before sunset tomorrow.
If you fail… the third victim will die.
Alya stared at the photo, unable to say a word.
She knew her father.
She knew that house.
But…
She had never seen the woman or the boy in the photo.
Raka drew a long breath. “It looks like this case is much older than we thought.”
Alya slowly nodded, her eyes still fixed on the faded photo.
For the first time since receiving the seven mysterious case files, she realized one thing.
All these murders…
Might not have begun with her.
They might have begun with a secret her family had buried for years.