Once the final formalities at the scene had been seen to, Felzein and Heru took their leave of the ransacked grocery shop.
Before departing, they made a point of offering polite farewells to the officers still stationed there and to the small crowd of onlookers who lingered at the fringes, drawn by curiosity and concern.
A few neighbours approached with tentative questions about the investigation's progress.
Felzein, though weary, offered what reassurance he could that he placed his trust in the police to bring the culprits to justice.
With the sun beginning its slow descent and the shop still encircled by fluttering lengths of police tape, the two men strode away with measured purpose, their conversation turning to the uncertain path that lay ahead.
"I can't shake the feeling that something about this case doesn't quite add up," Felzein murmured, his voice low and pensive.
Heru turned to him, brow furrowed, "What do you mean?"
"At the station earlier, I was told this isn't an isolated incident. Three similar break-ins have happened over the past week," Felzein replied, exhaling slowly.
"Always small provision shops like mine. They target the expensive goods, cigarettes, cooking oil, sacks of rice, but leave with barely any cash."
Heru fell silent, absorbing the weight of Felzein's words, "That is strange," he said at last. "Let's hope a fresh lead turns up soon, something that connects the dots."
Felzein nodded, though his gaze remained distant, "Yeah… I just hope the police get to the bottom of it before more shops are hit."
There was a brief pause, then his tone lightened just a touch, "Thanks, by the way. For showing up so quickly."
Heru chuckled quietly, "Don't mention it. You'd do the same for me."
He adjusted the collar of his jacket, stepping back slightly, "Right, I should get going."
"Safe journey, Bro," Felzein replied with a small nod.
They parted at the crossroads with a quiet understanding, each veering off in opposite directions on their motorbikes.
Felzein to the left, Heru to the right, both swallowed by the city's fading afternoon light, carrying thoughts that clung to them like shadows.
*****
Meanwhile, at the Koba Baru Pharmacy, a quiet tremor unsettled Rosa's heart.
Her dear friend, Melati, had just unveiled a truth so unexpected, it left her momentarily speechless.
The morning had begun like any other routine, familiar, but the moment Rosa laid eyes on Melati, she knew something wasn't right.
There was a stiffness to her movements, a guarded air that clung to her like mist.
From the outset, Melati had refused to remove her surgical mask, even during the quiet lulls when no customers came through the door.
It wasn't like her. They had worked countless shifts side by side, and Rosa could count on one hand the number of times Melati had seemed distant.
Initially, Rosa brushed it off, assuming her friend was unwell.
But the longer the morning stretched, the more apparent it became, this wasn't illness. It was concealment.
And whatever it was Melati was hiding, it was written not just on her face, but in the heavy silence that filled the space between them.
At last, Rosa could no longer bear the knot of unease that had been tightening in her chest since morning.
Her voice, though soft, carried the quiet force of someone who would not be brushed aside.
"Mel, what is it really? You've been off since we started. Don't tell me it's nothing," she said, her eyes searching Melati's face with quiet insistence.
Melati averted her gaze and shook her head faintly, "It's nothing, Ocha," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.
But Rosa was not one to yield easily, not when it came to someone she cared about, "Come on, Mel. Don't lie to me. I know you. There's something you're not saying," she pressed gently, but firmly.
A silence fell between them. Heavy, fragile. Melati's lips trembled.
Her hands, clenched tightly by her sides, gave her away more than words ever could. Her eyes, now glistening with held-back tears, flicked up to meet Rosa's.
Then, with a weary breath as though bracing herself against the weight of her own truth, Melati slowly reached up and lowered her face mask.
Rosa's heart lurched.
There, stark against the pale curve of Melati's cheek, was a deepening flush angry and unmistakably shaped like a handprint.
The kind that spoke not of an accident, but of violence.
Her breath caught. Her throat tightened. The sight of it, so intimate and brutal, was like a slap to Rosa herself.
Her hands curled helplessly, fury and sorrow welling up all at once, clashing with the disbelief settling over her like frost.
Melati didn't speak. She didn't need to.
And Rosa, rooted to the floor, realised in that moment that something far deeper and darker had been quietly unraveling behind her friend's composed smile.
"Mel… who did this to you?"
But Rosa's voice faltered midway, swallowed by the sight before her.
Melati broke down. Her sobs were muffled, strangled by the weight of shame and sorrow, as though speaking it aloud might make the pain more real.
"It was Welly," she choked, her voice quivering like a leaf in the wind.
Rosa could only stare, disbelief tightening in her chest.
Welly? The man who always smiled warmly, who spoke with gentle tones, who held Melati's hand as if it were the most delicate thing in the world?
On the surface, he was every bit the devoted partner. Tender, attentive, impossibly charming.
But now, that illusion shattered, the truth stood bare and unforgiving.
"He plays the perfect man in front of everyone," Melati whispered, eyes brimming with tears. "But behind closed doors… he's something else entirely. A monster."
Melati and Welly had been entwined in a relationship spanning two years.
The first year had unfolded like a tender narrative, brimming with joy and quiet contentment, much like any young couple's tale.
But as the second year dawned, a darker chapter began to reveal itself.
Welly's temper grew volatile, his true nature surfacing with cruel sharpness, his words biting, his hands quick to strike.
Melati dabbed at the tears tracing her cheeks, her voice barely a whisper now, "I… I was close to being violated by him more than once. Even…"
Her sobs caught in her throat, breaking the fragile stillness, "He almost sold me to his friends…"
Rosa's breath faltered. Her fingers curled tightly, knuckles white with suppressed fury and sorrow.
Her chest tightened, caught in the turbulent storm of anger, grief, and helplessness, witnessing the torment of a dear friend.
"Melati…" she whispered, tender yet broken.
Melati nodded faintly, eyes lowered as if surrendering to a weary defeat.
"Do your parents know of this, Mel?" Rosa's voice trembled, laden with deep concern.
Melati shook her head slowly, eyes shimmering with unshed tears, "They don't, Cha," she confessed quietly.
"Welly threatened me… said if they found out, the punishment would be far worse," she added, voice trembling like a fragile thread.
Rosa exhaled a slow, heavy breath, a mixture of sorrow and indignation rising within her.
"This is beyond pain, Mel. It's a crime," she said, disbelief etched across her features.
"You must go to the police," Rosa urged, her tone resolute, unwavering.
"But…" Melati faltered, the words barely a whisper.
"No buts, Mel," Rosa cut through firmly, "You cannot carry this silence alone any longer."
Melati remained silent, her head bowed low as the dam of restraint finally gave way, and tears cascaded down her cheeks.
Meanwhile, Rosa carefully withdrew a small tube of ointment from her pharmacy bag.
With gentle hands, she began to apply the Thrombophob Gel to the bruises marring Melati's face.
"Here, put this on," she said softly, her voice a soothing balm. "Thrombophob's good for reducing the swelling and helping the bruises heal faster."
Melati said nothing, her thoughts adrift in a sea of fear and doubt, as Rosa tenderly attended to her.
Occasionally, Rosa's gaze flickered to Melati's downcast visage, her heart tightening at the sight of such despair.
The hollow, distant look in her friend's eyes ignited a fierce anger within Rosa, an anger aimed squarely at Welly.
"I just don't understand, Mel… how you've borne all this for so long," Rosa whispered, struggling to steady her voice.
Melati exhaled softly, her tear-filled eyes meeting Rosa's with a fragile vulnerability, "I don't know either," she murmured, her words barely above a whisper.
The charged silence between them was abruptly broken by the faint jingle of the glass door as it slid open.
A new customer stepped inside, moving with measured calm towards the medicine shelves.
And there he was, Felzein, his ever-present black mask concealing half his face, yet somehow only deepening the air of mystery that clung to him.
Rosa found herself momentarily rooted to the spot, her heart quickening at the sight.
The memory of last night's encounter flickered in her mind, the striking contrast of his sharp features framed by that mask.
So vivid was the image that sleep had eluded her, and she found herself posting a WhatsApp status in the restless hours, driven by an inexplicable preoccupation.
Now he stood nearby, his inscrutable aura as compelling as ever, stirring within Rosa a curious blend of fascination and something altogether more elusive.
"Just a moment, Mel. I'll serve Mr Felzein first," Rosa said, rising from her seat with measured grace.
Melati frowned, perplexed, "Mr Felzein?" she echoed, as if seeking reassurance that she had heard correctly.
Rosa nodded, indicating the figure browsing quietly among the medicine shelves.
"That gentleman, the one wearing the black mask. His name is Felzein," she explained softly.
A flicker of intrigue crossed Melati's face, "And how is it you know his name?" she inquired, her earlier melancholy momentarily forgotten.
Rosa offered a slight, knowing smile, "Oh, I have my ways," she answered succinctly, relishing the subtle suspense.
Melati let out a soft sigh, "Typical," she murmured, half amused, half exasperated.
Meanwhile, Rosa drew nearer to Felzein with a measured, graceful tread, doing her utmost to retain a calm exterior, though her heart betrayed her with a subtle quickening.
Seated at a distance, Melati watched them with quiet intensity.
Her eyes flickered between Rosa and Felzein, curiosity tightening within her. How could her friend already know this mysterious stranger's name?
Was there a secret Rosa had been carefully guarding, hidden from her all this while?