The morning of March 1 began with a soft breeze and the scent of fresh flowers drifting in through the window. Siti blinked awake, sunlight spilling across her blanket. For a moment, she lay still, her mind quiet, until she remembered what day it was.
Her birthday.
She turned twelve today.
A small smile formed on her lips. Birthdays had always been special to her — not because of gifts, but because they reminded her of love. She used to wake up to her parents' voices singing "Selamat Hari Jadi" softly by her bedside. Her mother would kiss her forehead while her father handed her a slice of cake for breakfast.
But that was a long time ago.
Now, she was in a small room at Rumah Kasih Sayang, surrounded not by her parents, but by the hum of morning chatter from the children downstairs. Still, she felt grateful. The orphanage had become her home.
She got up, put on her favorite blue blouse, and brushed her hair neatly before heading down.
As she stepped into the dining hall, the kids burst into giggles and whispers. Something was definitely going on. She frowned suspiciously. "What are you all hiding?"
Before she could take another step, everyone shouted at once:
"Happy Birthday, Siti!"
Siti froze, eyes wide. The whole room was decorated with colorful ribbons, balloons, and a big sign that said "Selamat Hari Lahir, Siti!" written in big, uneven letters. In the middle of the table was a small cake topped with a single candle shaped like the number 12.
Safura came out of the kitchen holding a tray of drinks, grinning. "You didn't think we'd forget, did you?"
Siti covered her mouth, her eyes shining with surprise. "You… you all did this for me?"
"Of course!" said Amir, jumping up and down. "You always help us celebrate our birthdays! Now it's your turn!"
Siti laughed through the tears that had started to fill her eyes. "Thank you, everyone. Really, thank you."
Safuan stepped forward with a camera. "Come on, before the cake melts! Everyone gather around!"
The children crowded around Siti, giggling and pushing to get closer. Safuan snapped a few pictures as Siti leaned forward to blow out the candle.
"Make a wish first!" shouted one of the older girls.
Siti closed her eyes. She didn't say the words aloud, but in her heart, she whispered:
I hope one day… I can see my parents again.
Then she blew out the candle, and everyone clapped and cheered.
They sang songs, played games, and shared slices of cake until the room was filled with laughter. Siti received small handmade gifts — a drawing from Amir, a paper bracelet from Ika, and even a small keychain from Safura.
Each one meant the world to her.
---
The celebration lasted until evening. When the children were finally tired and began drifting off to their rooms, Siti helped Safura clean up.
"You had fun, didn't you?" Safura asked, stacking plates.
Siti nodded, smiling. "I did. It's the best birthday I've had in a long time."
Safura smiled warmly. "Good. You deserve it."
When everything was done, Siti went upstairs to her room. The night was quiet now, the only sound the chirping of crickets outside her window.
She sat down on her bed, holding the keychain Safura had given her — a small pink heart with her name written on it.
Her heart was full… but also heavy.
She picked up her phone from the table and unlocked it. The time read 10:42 PM.
She opened her messages.
There was nothing new.
Her last message — the one she had sent on New Year's — still sat unread. The empty space above it made her chest ache.
Maybe, she thought, maybe they just forgot the date. Maybe they're too busy. Maybe they'll text in the morning.
But as the seconds passed and the screen stayed silent, that hope began to crumble.
She scrolled up through her old messages — birthday photos, small updates she had sent months ago, pictures of her with the children. All unread.
Her throat tightened. She set the phone down for a moment and took a deep breath.
"Why can't you just say something?" she whispered into the quiet room. "Just one word. Just… happy birthday."
Her voice cracked on the last two words.
Siti wiped her eyes quickly. She didn't want to cry — not tonight. Not after such a happy day. But the tears came anyway, quiet and unstoppable.
She curled up on the bed, hugging her pillow.
Downstairs, she could faintly hear Safura and Safuan laughing about something in the kitchen. The sound was warm and safe — it reminded her that she wasn't truly alone. But no matter how much love she found here, a small part of her heart still longed for the two people who had given her life.
She reached for the phone again, hoping — just maybe — a new message had come in.
The screen stayed dark.
Her chest ached.
"Goodnight, Ibu… Ayah…" she whispered softly. "I still miss you."
She turned off the lamp, letting the moonlight fill the room. The silver light brushed against her cheeks, glinting off the tear tracks that shimmered there.
Before she drifted to sleep, she looked one last time at the picture Safuan had taken earlier — her surrounded by children, smiling wide, the candle's glow soft against her face.
Despite her sadness, Siti smiled faintly at the image.
Maybe her parents couldn't see it… but at least she had people who did.