Chapter 010: Confession
Aisyah was startled the moment Pak Arga mentioned Aruna's name. Her chest tightened once again. Ever since Miss Arin had come to their house, and from the moment she herself had been admitted to the hospital, her daughter's name had been circling endlessly in her mind. One terrible possibility after another flooded her thoughts, leaving her unable to think clearly.
Pak Arga gently held his wife's hand.
"Syah... I'm not asking so I can blame anyone. I just want us to understand what really happened."
Aisyah gave a small nod. The calmness in her husband's eyes slowly chipped away at the anxiety she had been carrying alone.
"That's exactly why I'm confused, Bang," she whispered. "When could Aruna have ever been pregnant? I swear, Bang... I'm not trying to hide my own child's mistakes. But... if it were true... when? She came home every single day. Where would she have gotten the money? Who would she have gone with? How could I not have noticed at all?"
Arga let out a long breath.
"Then it means her teacher doesn't know the truth either."
"That's right, Bang. Bu Arin also said it's still just a rumor. No one has been able to prove anything."
"Then the only person we need to hear from is Aruna herself."
Aisyah lowered her head.
"I haven't even had the chance to ask her, Bang. I ended up in the hospital first..."
Pak Arga gently rubbed the back of her hand.
"That's fine. Once we're home, we'll ask her properly. Let's not rush into believing what other people say."
Aisyah looked at him.
"Bang... you're not angry?"
Pak Arga shook his head.
"Angry at whom? We don't even know anything yet."
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"I trust you, Aisyah. So I'm going to trust Aruna too... until I hear the truth from her own mouth."
At last, Aisyah's tears fell.
"Thank you, Bang..."
"We're husband and wife, Syah. Whatever comes our way, we face it together. Don't carry everything by yourself."
Aisyah nodded.
The weight on her chest hadn't completely disappeared. But at least now, she no longer felt like she was facing it alone.
Several days later, after Aisyah had been discharged from the hospital, the four of them gathered in the living room.
The moment Aruna saw her mother, she burst into tears again.
"Hic... hic...
Mom... forgive me...
Because of me... you lost the baby..."
She covered her face as her body trembled with sobs.
Aisyah immediately took both of her daughter's hands.
"Runa... look at me."
Aruna shook her head.
"Runa..."
Slowly, she lifted her tear-streaked face.
"This wasn't your fault."
"But if it wasn't because of me—"
"No."
Aisyah's voice trembled as well.
"But I want you to tell me the truth. Is what Bu Arin said true?"
"No, Mom!"
The answer came almost instantly.
"I swear, Mom... I never did that. I was never pregnant. I never had an abortion. None of it is true..."
Arga, who had remained silent until then, finally spoke.
"Then... why do you think those rumors started?"
Aruna wiped away her tears.
"I don't know either, Dad...
One day everyone was just... saying those things..."
Silence settled over the room.
"Dad..."
Gavin finally spoke.
"There's something I need to tell you."
Pak Arga turned toward him.
"What is it, Vin?"
"I've seen people picking on Runa at school."
The room fell silent again.
"Picking on her?"
"Yes, Dad."
"When?"
"A while ago. I don't remember exactly."
He drew a breath.
"I wanted to go over... but by the time I got there, they'd already scattered."
"Why didn't you tell us sooner?"
Gavin lowered his head.
"I thought... if Runa was ready, she'd tell you herself."
He glanced briefly at Aruna.
"But now I realize... she's been coming home with dirty uniforms for a long time."
Pak Arga listened without interrupting.
"Sometimes her skirt was torn."
"She said she'd fallen."
"Yes, Dad."
"But I didn't believe her."
He sighed softly.
"Sure, Runa's a tomboy... but not that much."
Pak Arga turned to Aruna.
"Run..."
"Is what Gavin said true?"
Aruna lowered her head.
Her hands tightened around each other.
Just a little longer...
Only a little longer.
She had already endured so much.
If she could just hold on until graduation...
Everything would finally be over.
That was what she had kept telling herself all this time.
"Runa."
Arga's voice came again.
"Keeping silent won't solve anything."
He sighed quietly.
"Your teacher also said... you're in danger of not graduating."
Aruna's head snapped up.
"What?"
"The school has sent warning letters to our house several times."
"You hid every single one."
Her face immediately turned pale.
All this time, she had thought...
As long as she was still allowed to take the exams...
Everything would somehow be okay.
Her grades didn't matter.
As long as she graduated and escaped that school.
But now...
Even that chance had almost slipped away.
"Runa..."
Arga looked at her with quiet authority.
"If we don't know what's wrong, how can we help you?"
"I'm your legal guardian."
"If you keep staying silent... you're not the only one who suffers."
"It also makes it impossible for me to do my job as your father."
Aruna closed her eyes.
A few moments later, she gave a tiny nod.
"...Yes, Dad."
Tears streamed down her cheeks once more.
"I skipped school."
"Why?"
She took a long, shaky breath.
It was a long time before she finally answered.
"...I couldn't bear facing my Indonesian teacher."
The room fell silent once again.
"Why?" Arga asked calmly.
"What did he do?"
Before Aruna could answer, Aisyah spoke first, panic rising in her voice.
"Runa!"
Her whole body stiffened.
"Could it be..."
She couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence.
Her hands began to tremble.
Countless terrible possibilities rushed through her mind.
"That teacher..."
"...did he do something to you?"
Arga immediately placed a reassuring hand on his wife's shoulder.
"Syah."
"Calm down."
"Let's hear Runa's story first."
Although he tried to remain composed, his jaw tightened.
Meanwhile, in the corner of the room, Gavin unconsciously clenched both fists.
If someone had really hurt his little sister...
He wasn't sure he could stay as calm as he was now.
With gentle encouragement and reassurance from both of her parents, Aruna finally agreed to explain why the girl who had once loved school had suddenly become someone who constantly skipped classes.
It had all begun when she was in the eighth grade.
Back then, she had come down with typhoid fever and had been confined to bed at home for nearly two weeks.
At the time, Aisyah was still a widow. Her wages as a factory day laborer were barely enough to put food on the table. Taking Aruna to a doctor was a luxury they simply couldn't afford.
Fortunately, not far from the small house they rented was a maternity clinic. The midwife working there knew the mother and daughter well. Moved by the sight of a poor widow struggling to raise her orphaned daughter alone, she agreed to treat Aruna without charging a single rupiah.
When Aruna had fully recovered, the midwife issued her a medical certificate bearing the official stamp of the maternity clinic.
To Aisyah, nothing seemed unusual.
The certificate was legitimate.
All that mattered was that her daughter could return to school.
Not once did it cross either of their minds that that single sheet of paper would become the beginning of everything.
"Aruna Hashifa."
Her Indonesian teacher, who also happened to be her homeroom teacher, held the medical certificate high for the entire class to see.
"So, you had typhoid?"
"Yes, Sir..."
"People usually recover from typhoid in just a few days."
He flipped the paper over with a faint smile.
"Huh? Why is this certificate from a maternity clinic?"
A few students chuckled.
The teacher smiled along with them.
"You make it sound like you've just given birth."
The classroom erupted in laughter.
Perhaps, to him, it had been nothing more than a harmless joke.
Perhaps he had never intended to hurt anyone.
But to a fourteen-year-old girl...
Those words weighed far more than a simple joke.
From that day on, the remark never stayed inside the classroom.
It became whispers.
Then rumors.
Then assumptions.
No one truly knew where the story that Aruna had gotten pregnant and secretly had an abortion had come from.
What everyone remembered was only one thing.
Their teacher had joked about the medical certificate from a maternity clinic.
And to children their age, a joke made by a teacher sounded almost like the truth.
Aisyah covered her mouth.
Her body trembled again.
"Astaghfirullah..."
Tears streamed down her face.
"Runa... forgive me..."
Aruna immediately shook her head.
"You didn't do anything wrong, Mom."
"If only I'd had enough money to take you to a real doctor..."
"No, Mom."
"If I hadn't been so poor..."
"Mom!"
For the first time, Aruna raised her voice.
"You didn't do anything wrong."
Silence filled the room once more.
Arga, who had been listening the entire time, finally spoke.
"No."
His voice was soft.
"There is nothing wrong with being treated by a midwife."
He looked at his wife.
"You were doing everything you could just to survive."
Then he turned to Aruna.
"The real mistake was turning an official medical document into a joke in front of an entire classroom."
Aruna lowered her head again.
Her hands remained tightly clasped together.
"I'm going to your school tomorrow."
Aruna immediately looked up.
"Please don't, Dad."
"It happened a long time ago."
"I'm graduating soon."
"It'll all be over."
Arga slowly shook his head.
"No."
"A problem like this doesn't disappear simply because time has passed."
He looked directly into her eyes.
"If the person who made the mistake never realizes what they did wrong, another child could end up suffering the same way."
Those words left Aruna speechless.
"I'm not trying to find someone to punish."
"I simply want everyone to take responsibility."
The following morning, Arga went to the school with Aruna.
They first met with Arin before being invited into a meeting with the principal and several teachers.
Once everyone was seated, the principal began.
"We are deeply sorry for what Aruna has experienced. We sincerely hope this matter can be resolved amicably."
Arga nodded.
"So do I."
"But resolving it doesn't mean burying it."
The room fell silent.
"Mr. Principal."
"For nearly a year, my daughter carried a rumor she never even understood."
"She was isolated."
"Mocked."
"Until she eventually lost the courage to come to school."
He paused for a moment.
"It all began with something a teacher said in front of the class."
He never raised his voice.
Yet every word rang through the room with unmistakable clarity.
"I didn't come here to punish anyone."
"I came so this school could correct its mistake."
The principal let out a long breath.
"What is it that you want?"
"It's simple."
Arga answered firmly.
"I want my daughter's good name restored."
"Publicly."
"Not inside this room."
"But in front of the people who heard—or believed—that rumor."
One of the teachers tried to interrupt.
"Sir... that would affect the school's reputation."
Arga turned toward him immediately.
"A school's reputation is important."
"But so is the reputation of a young girl."
He looked back at the principal.
"If a school teaches its students to admit their mistakes with courage, shouldn't teachers set that example as well?"
Silence returned.
No one had an answer.
At last, the principal nodded slowly.
"We'll discuss it."
Arga shook his head.
"I'm sorry."
"This has gone on for far too long."
"I hope there will be a decision by tomorrow."
The next morning, during the school assembly, the Indonesian teacher stood before the entire school.
More than a thousand students watched in silence.
He admitted that what he had said years earlier had been inappropriate for a classroom.
He also apologized to Aruna and her family, acknowledging that his careless joke had sparked a misunderstanding that had lasted for years.
Standing at the edge of the field, Arga, Aisyah, Gavin, and Arin witnessed it all.
There was no applause.
No cheering.
Only silence.
But for Aruna, for the very first time in a long while...
She felt that the burden she had carried alone for so many years was finally being shared.
Aruna graduated.
Her grades were nowhere near what they had once been.
Her chance to enter a public high school was gone.
But this time...
She left that school without carrying a stain that had never belonged to her.
And to Pak Arga...
That mattered far more than any diploma ever could.