That morning, the atmosphere in Naeswari's family home felt perfectly ordinary. They were having breakfast together at the dining table. Outside, sunlight was beginning to stream through the windows, promising a bright day, but Naeswari had been troubled by confusion since the night before.
Naeswari sat with a bewildered expression, idly twirling her spoon. Her eyes remained fixed on her plate, though every so often she glanced toward her mother, Dini, who was preparing a cup of hot tea for her father, Yas, in the kitchen.
Finally, in a soft but anxious voice, Naeswari asked, "Mom... did you hear a Javanese song last night?"
Dini, who had just returned to the table, furrowed her brow. Her hand paused above her teacup for a moment before she looked at her daughter curiously.
"A Javanese song? No, Naes, I didn't hear anything. Where was it coming from?"
"From the hallway outside my room. It was soft, but clear," Naeswari said, biting her lip. She seemed hesitant before answering.
Yas, who had been reading the newspaper, set his glasses on the table and looked at Naeswari with a furrowed brow.
"Maybe you were dreaming, Naes," he said. His deep voice sounded calm but firm.
"Sometimes our subconscious can feel real," Yas continued as he lowered his coffee cup and shrugged, looking unconcerned.
"No, Dad. It was real. The voice was so clear, like someone was singing all along the hallway outside the bedrooms last night," Naeswari replied, shaking her head.
Nalesha, who had been quietly enjoying his breakfast, suddenly let out a small, sarcastic laugh.
"Oh, please, Naes. You have to be lying. A Javanese song in the middle of the night? Seriously?"
Naeswari felt her chest and throat begin to tighten. She stared at her brother with hurt in her eyes, but didn't dare say anything. Nalesha kept looking at her with a mocking smile as he sipped the orange juice in his hand.
"You must've been sleep-talking," Nalesha said, laughing again.
"I wasn't sleep-talking." Naeswari spoke so softly that no one could hear her, as though she were talking to herself.
"Enough, Nalesha," Dini said, though there was a hint of disbelief in her voice as well. "Naes might've just heard it wrong. Strange sounds are common at night."
With everyone dismissing her words, Naeswari could only fall silent. Her hand gripped the spoon so tightly that her knuckles turned white. Her eyes began to burn, but she lowered her head, trying to hold back her tears.
Deep inside, Naeswari felt a profound ache. No one believed her—not even her own family. Slowly, she put the spoon in her mouth, but her breakfast tasted completely bland. Her gaze was vacant, her heart lost in confusion and fear.
"Sorry. I was just asking," Naeswari whispered at last, barely audible amid the clatter of silverware on the table.
In silence, Naeswari kept everything bottled up inside. Surrounded by sounds no one else could hear, she felt increasingly like a stranger in her own home.