<br/><p>Semiconscious in the car not long after leaving Tesso Nilo, Awang vehemently refused to be taken to the hospital. He was still a little dizzy and confused, but that only made him more stubborn and resistant, leaving Kuntum no choice but to take him home. She barely managed to help him to bed before her husband lost consciousness again and slept through the rest of the day and all night, hardly moving in his sleep.</p> <p>Kuntum lay beside him, anxious and awake for half the night, wondering whether she had done the right thing by bringing her husband home as he had asked. At first, she believed she had no choice, but now she wasn't so sure.</p> <p>Awang began the next morning with the energy of a man suffering from a head injury. He lay in bed for several hours after his alarm went off. His head throbbed painfully whenever he moved, so he considered taking a painkiller.</p> <p>When he finally did move, he felt like a broken toy, trembling as he moved and making funny little groaning sounds. He didn't think he could handle the only medical practice in Taluk Kuantan that day, and maybe not for several more years. He desperately needed some time off, and in his book, a coma didn't count as a vacation.</p> <p>This headache isn't going to go away on its own, he muttered to himself as he finally rolled out of bed to get some fresh air.</p> <p>"I wish someone would buy the damn building next door. It's been kept in good condition, just like it was when it was first built. Sometimes I hate this city. A building like that would never sit empty in a real city."</p> <p>Considering what they had just gone through the day before, Kuntum was somewhat surprised but clearly not shocked by the first topic to come out of Awang's mouth.</p> <p>"Why don't you just forget about the place and let the broker handle it?" she asked, mumbling sleepily, though she couldn't go back to sleep because Awang's muttering had filled her ears for the nine-hundredth time in the past few years. At last, she gave in to her desire to sleep and put her feet on the floor.</p> <p>Still muttering, Awang continued. "Because that brilliant 'broker' has been trying to sell the place for eight years. If it had sold, we could've used the proceeds to pay off the loan for my specialty training. You know that, right, honey?"</p> <p>Kuntum knew she had every right to complain too, since the same thing had been circling through her mind almost constantly lately. When they married four years earlier, they had assumed Dermawan's old funeral home would sell and help them financially during their first few years together. Or at least help them until Awang's medical practice was doing well.</p> <p>Now it all seemed like one big, naïve dream. Fortunately, the house had been inherited along with the funeral home, so at least they had a decent place to live.</p> <p>But the daily struggle to maintain both properties while staying afloat, as they tried to get an income flowing into their account, was putting tremendous pressure on their increasingly troubled marriage.</p> <p>"Breakfast before you head to the clinic?" she asked as she put on her kimono, walked toward the door, and tried to push the financial problems constantly looming in her mind aside.</p> <p>"Probably. If I can get rid of this headache, I'll be down in a little while."</p> <p>As her feet touched the uncarpeted coconut-wood floor in the hallway, Kuntum's thoughts kept returning to the funeral home next door. They needed to tear the damn building down to ease the burden of their lives.</p> <p>It seemed impossible—or at least, it was impossible for Kuntum.</p>