Morning hadn't come yet, and the sky was still dark. It was around three in the morning when Gilang's phone rang repeatedly in vibrate mode, making him hear the call.
The next morning, when he woke up and checked his phone, Gilang found fifteen missed calls from Angga.
Gilang immediately felt worried. Why had Angga called him in the middle of the night? he wondered.
Gilang called Angga back right away, and sure enough, bad news came. Angga told him that Aunt Darsih was on her deathbed, repeatedly saying, "Gilang, forgive me." Those words kept escaping Aunt Darsih's lips as she lay dying.
Without thinking twice, Gilang hurried to Angga's house right then and, as soon as he arrived, burst into Aunt Darsih's room.
"Auntie... it's Gilang. I'm here, Auntie," Gilang said.
But Aunt Darsih kept saying she was sorry, occasionally shaking her head. Her eyes looked vacant, opening and closing.
"Auntie... it's Gilang. Are you conscious? Angga, let's take Aunt Darsih to the hospital now," Gilang said.
"No, Lang. Mom doesn't want to go either. Lately, she's often been sleep-talking and asking you to forgive her. That's why I called to tell you she was sick. It seems like there's something Mom wants to tell you," Angga said.
"Auntie, it's Gilang... it's Gilang, Auntie," Gilang said.
For about thirty minutes, nothing changed. Then, all of a sudden, Aunt Darsih called Gilang's name.
"Gilang..." Aunt Darsih called.
"Yes, Auntie. I'm here," Gilang answered.
"Forgive me, Lang. I've lied to you for almost twenty years. Maybe it's time you learned the truth," Aunt Darsih said.
"What truth, Auntie? What do you mean? Are you sleep-talking again? I don't understand what you're saying," Gilang said.
"You need to know the real history of your family, Lang—especially what caused your parents' deaths," Aunt Darsih said.
"What do you mean?" Gilang asked, confused.
Aunt Darsih fell silent for a moment and took a deep breath before saying, "Your father and mother didn't die from an illness. They died from a disease that someone deliberately caused, and the person who did it is still someone close to you, Lang."
"It all happened after your grandfather died, Lang," Aunt Darsih continued.
Gilang grew even more confused, his heart pounding hard. He sat there in silence, unable to say a word.
"Back then, before your grandfather died, when he was sick—you were not even a year old yet, and your older sibling was four. Your grandfather entrusted all matters concerning the family's refinery business to your father. Your uncle remained merely an employee, treated like an ordinary worker, though his pay was very different from theirs. Your uncle had just married Aunt Murni at the time," Aunt Darsih said.
"At first, neither of them objected to your grandfather's decision. Your uncle didn't really care about or understand the business's operations, and perhaps he was already comfortable with a fairly large salary without having to worry about one thing or another. Meanwhile, your father was more competent, hardworking, and wise when it came to those matters. When your father took over the business, its progress became apparent almost immediately. Even though your grandfather's refinery had already been doing fairly well for a long time," Aunt Darsih explained.
"The refinery continued to grow, and the number of employees increased. Your father began buying up plots of land around the village that had initially only been rented, and they eventually became his own property. Your grandfather was certainly happy and proud of that progress, but unfortunately, he passed away in the middle of it," Aunt Darsih said.