Raka still stood frozen in the middle of the room.
The photo that had appeared on the table felt heavier than anything he had ever held. The writing on the back sent his thoughts into chaos.
I know who killed me.
That short sentence kept spinning through his mind.
The house lights came fully back on, but the room didn't feel any brighter. If anything, everyone looked even more uneasy.
Raka gripped the photo tightly.
“Who took the letter earlier?”
No one answered.
His eyes immediately swept over everyone in the room.
“No one move until I know the answer.”
Bagas sighed.
“You’re starting to suspect everyone?”
Raka stared at him.
“That’s exactly what I should be doing.”
“Even me?”
“Especially anyone who has a reason to hide something.”
Bagas gave him a faint smile.
“You’re starting to look more and more like Rina.”
Raka fell silent.
“Don’t say her name if you still want to keep hiding the truth.”
That wiped the smile from Bagas’s face.
Grandma Mira, who had been silent until then, finally spoke.
“Raka is right.”
Everyone turned toward her.
“This secret has made too many people live in fear for far too long.”
Mira looked at each face in the room.
“Rina tried to expose everything that night. She knew someone was lying.”
“Who?” Raka asked.
Mira slowly shook her head.
“I can’t say their name.”
Raka was disappointed.
“Why does everyone always say that? Why won’t anyone just speak plainly?”
“Because the person you’re looking for is still in this room.”
The atmosphere changed instantly.
Sari covered her mouth.
Damar stared at the floor.
Vera backed away several steps.
Arman looked even more tense.
Raka watched them all.
“Then I’ll find out for myself.”
He walked toward the table.
“I’ll start with this photo.”
Bima stepped closer.
“What do you see?”
Raka turned the photo over.
At the bottom, beneath Rina’s handwriting, something that hadn’t been visible before appeared.
A number.
“12.”
Vera moved closer.
“Twelve?”
“Yeah.”
Bima thought for a moment.
“That isn’t an ordinary number.”
“What do you mean?”
Bima stared at the photo.
“Rina had a habit of hiding clues in the form of numbers.”
Raka looked at him.
“You knew that?”
Bima fell silent.
“I knew Rina for a long time.”
“How long?”
Bima didn’t answer right away.
“Longer than you think.”
Arman immediately looked at Bima.
“Don’t make this even more complicated.”
Bima let out a small laugh.
“That’s pretty funny coming from you.”
Raka looked from one to the other.
“You all have connections you’ve never told anyone about.”
No one denied it.
Because it was true.
Suddenly, Vera took the photo from Raka’s hand.
“Wait.”
She examined the back of the photo.
“There’s something here.”
Vera pointed to a tiny corner of the photo.
A very faint line of writing was visible.
“The old house.”
Raka frowned.
“Whose old house?”
Damar’s expression changed immediately.
“No.”
Everyone looked at him.
“What?”
Damar drew a long breath.
“Don’t go there.”
Raka looked at his father.
“Why?”
“Because that place was abandoned a long time ago.”
“That’s exactly what makes it important.”
Damar walked toward Raka.
“Dad, please.”
Raka fell silent at those words.
It had been a long time since he’d seen his father look afraid.
Not angry.
Not disappointed.
Truly afraid.
“You know something about that house.”
Damar didn’t answer.
“Right?”
Several seconds passed.
Finally, Damar nodded.
“Yes.”
Everyone was stunned.
Raka felt his chest tighten.
“Why are you only telling us now?”
Damar looked at his son.
“Because Rina wasn’t the only one who lost something that night.”
“What do you mean?”
Damar lowered his head.
“I lost a friend.”
The room fell silent.
“Who?”
Damar closed his eyes.
“Someone whose name has never been spoken all this time.”
Raka waited for an answer.
But before Damar could continue, a knock came from the front door.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Everyone fell silent again.
No one moved.
The knocking came again.
Louder.
Knock.
Knock.
Knock.
Bagas slowly walked toward the door.
“Who is it?”
There was no answer.
Raka stood behind him.
“Don’t open it.”
Bagas turned around.
“Why?”
“Because there have been too many surprises tonight.”
But before they could do anything, the door opened by itself.
Cold air swept into the house.
An old man stood in the doorway, his face covered in scars.
Grandma Mira immediately stood up.
Her face went pale.
“Impossible.”
The man looked around the room.
His eyes stopped on Raka.
“You’re Rina’s son?”
Raka didn’t answer.
The old man pulled something from his pocket.
A small key.
“I’ve kept this for years.”
Mira walked closer.
“You were supposed to be gone.”
The man gave a bitter smile.
“I hoped so too.”
He looked at Rina’s photo on the table.
“I came because the time has finally come.”
Raka gripped the photo.
“Who are you?”
The old man looked at him.
“My name is Joko.”
He held up the key.
“And this key unlocks the last place where Rina kept the truth.”
Raka felt his heart beating faster.
“Where?”
Joko looked toward the darkness outside the house.
“At the old house.”
Everyone froze again.
Because they all knew.
That old house was the last place Rina had been seen before she disappeared.