
This afternoon Wulan returned to Panti, although the mother warned that she did not have to go home in a few days. He was worried something happened to his mother and sister in the orphanage. But, as soon as he arrived at the parlor, he saw a middle-aged man enter the home.
"Who is that father? Why is his movement so suspicious." Wulan said as she slowly stepped closer to the home.
The man Wulan had seen entering the home, was now sitting in the living room. The mother also sat opposite the man. And Wulan silently eavesdropped on their conversation.
"Actually I came here to tell you something about a secret that was kept twenty years ago." Said the man who made Astuti feel worried.
"Secret twenty years ago?" Astuti asked once again to make sure that he had not heard wrong.
"Tuti's really bu. I have to tell this secret to Tuti's mother for the safety of Tuti's child."
"What secret is that, sir? Why the secret is related to my son's child." said Astuti who actually can guess the secret of what the man meant.
The man began to tell about the secret that he meant, that actually twenty years ago on the night of the fire that resulted in the death of the wife and child of Cakra Handoko, who was actually killed, he saw a man coming out of the fire with a baby.
"The man rushed away from the scene of the fire. He brought the baby I thought was probably Cakra Handoko's daughter. I saw him stop right in front of this orphanage. I remember it was about three in the morning." His speech.
Astuti responded to the old man's story. "That night I found a baby in front of the home. If it's three o'clock in the morning, it means the baby is my daughter, Wulan."
The old Lekaki also said that if it is true that Wulan was found at three in the morning in front of this home, it means that Wulan is the biological daughter, Cakra Handoko, the director of UT Holding who was presumed dead in the fire that night.
Wulan heard the story she had just heard. There is a sense of relief because it turns out she is the daughter of the rich director. But, even so Wulan was also worried. He was worried that the old man was just making up stories because they were paid by someone.
"I suggest, that Astuti ma'am take good care of Wulan and must keep secret about who Wulan really is from others. Because, at this time the enemy of Cakra Handoko begins to know the fact that his daughter is still alive." The man suggested.
"Does master Cakra Handoko also know that his daughter is still alive?" Ask Astuti.
The man later said that Cakra's enemies are now on the loose to find out who his daughter really is. They wanted to capture his daughter as a hostage who could be used to threaten her into handing over UT Holding to them.
Wulan heard all those stories very clearly. He was silent and did not know what the story was like. Until he unconsciously stepped away from the home.
"What will happen to me? Are they going to kill me?" He thought as he continued to step. He did not even realize that he was in the middle of the highway.
Tinnn…
Tiiinn…
Tiiinnn…
The sound of car horns passing by when he saw Wulan standing still in the middle of the highway.
"What should I do?" Her speech. He was crying and sitting in the middle of the road.
The car just kept going through it. The person who walked by the side of the highway only looked at him with a mocking and pitying look. Some people even take pictures and record them.
Then, suddenly the sunny weather turned cloudy. Lightning even snatches the light like a camera flash that photographs the artist. The hikers sped up their steps, fearing that it would rain soon. And sure enough, the rain fell instantly with a rush that was followed by a rumbling sound as if nature was raging.
"Oh my god, what should I do." He's stricken in the rain.
"Keyla! I have to see Keyla." He suddenly remembered Keyla. He stood up and crossed the street in a hurry.
The rain spots are getting heavier, lightning continues to grab the picture and the rumbling sound as if to put each other down. People were running around looking for shelter, while Wulan continued to step through the torrent of rain.