Chapter1
The atmosphere at Kasih Mulia Orphanage had never been this quiet.
Usually, three o’clock in the afternoon was the noisiest time of the day. The sound of children running through the corridors, toddlers crying over toys, and the clatter of metal plates from the kitchen always filled the air. But today, all that noise had vanished, replaced by a suffocating silence.
Aina stood behind a pillar on the porch, its paint peeling away with age. Her small fingers clutched the edge of her once-white hijab, now slightly worn and faded. Her swollen eyes stared at the rusty iron gate of the orphanage.
A shiny black sedan had just closed its doors there.
It belonged to a well-dressed married couple—the last prospective adoptive parents to visit that day. Inside the car sat Rio, a seven-year-old boy who waved happily through the window with a bright smile.
Rio was the fourteenth child to be adopted.
The orphanage had officially gone bankrupt, and today was the final deadline to vacate the building. Out of sixteen children, fourteen had already found new homes.
Including Bagas.
Her childhood best friend had been picked up two weeks earlier by a wealthy family. Aina still remembered how he cried while saying goodbye, promising he would never forget her.
Aina let out a heavy sigh.
She knew exactly why she was always passed over whenever adoptive families came.
The words spoken by a middle-aged woman in an expensive dress just minutes ago still echoed in her ears, cutting through her heart mercilessly. The woman had briefly looked at Aina before quickly pulling her husband away and whispering in a tone of disgust she failed to hide.
“Not that girl, dear. Don’t you know her background? Her mother committed suicide in this orphanage when she was five. She was heartbroken after being abandoned by her husband. A child born from a depressed woman like that... she might bring misfortune to our family. Her blood is tainted.”
A cursed child.
The label felt permanently attached to her skin, an invisible mark she carried wherever she went.
Her mother had left the world in a tragic way, leaving Aina behind with deep trauma and the judgmental stares of everyone around her.
The world seemed to agree that Aina did not deserve happiness.
When the black sedan finally disappeared around the corner, the orphanage gate slammed shut with a deafening clang by one of the remaining caretakers.
Aina turned around.
With sluggish steps, she walked toward the girls’ dormitory, now completely empty.
Only metal bed frames remained. The mattresses were gone. Everything had already been packed away.
She walked to the corner where her favorite bed had stood for the past ten years.
Lowering herself onto the cold concrete floor, she pulled her knees to her chest and buried her face in them.
One tear after another fell silently, soaking the gray school uniform of her first year in high school.
Aina cried without making a sound.
Her chest felt painfully tight with heartbreak, loneliness, and rejection.
She was only a freshman, yet it felt as though the world had already closed every door on her.
Today, the orphanage was shutting down.
She had no home.
No parents.
No idea where she would go tomorrow.
Once again, she had been abandoned—alone in a world far too vast.
“Keep crying like that and this floor’s gonna turn into a swimming pool.”
A deep, raspy voice shattered the silence.
Aina startled and quickly looked up.
A tall young man was leaning against the worn-out doorway.
He wore a black leather jacket covered with motorcycle club patches, ripped jeans with torn knees, and a pair of dirty boots.
The smell of engine oil, cigarette smoke, and cheap cologne flooded the room, overpowering the scent of dust.
It was Vino.
He stepped inside casually, chewing gum at a steady rhythm. His slightly long black hair was messy—the unmistakable look of someone who spent his days racing through the wind.
“Brother Vino...” Aina whispered, hastily wiping away her tears with the back of her hand.
Vino stopped in front of her.
His unreadable gaze lingered on the girl for a moment.
Without warning, he extended a rough, calloused hand.
“Get up. No point mourning your fate on a dirty floor like this. The orphanage is dead, but you’re not.”
Aina hesitated before taking his hand.
His grip was strong enough to pull her effortlessly to her feet.
“Everyone’s gone, Brother,” she said softly, her voice trembling. “Nobody wants to adopt me. They said I’m—”
“Stop listening to those idiots,” Vino cut her off sharply.
He turned and motioned for her to follow.
“I don’t need anyone to adopt me to survive, and neither do you. As long as I’m still breathing, you won’t end up homeless.”
The words were spoken casually, as though they meant nothing.
But to Aina, they felt like a warm blanket in the middle of a snowstorm.
Vino had always been like this.
While everyone else avoided her because they believed she brought bad luck, Vino—the boy the entire city labeled a delinquent—was the one person who truly understood her and never left her side.
He walked toward the porch, where a black 150cc sport motorcycle was parked.
Its engine was still warm.
Vino tossed a helmet toward her, and Aina caught it instinctively.
“Get on.”
The motorcycle roared to life, its engine echoing through the silent orphanage grounds.
Aina climbed onto the back seat and grabbed the side of Vino’s oil-stained jacket tightly.
Moments later, they sped through the city streets beneath the fading colors of sunset, leaving behind the orphanage that had witnessed their entire childhood.
The motorcycle eventually stopped in a narrow alley crowded with small houses.
After weaving through several turns, Vino parked in front of a tiny rented house with faded green walls.
It looked simple, but clean and well-maintained.
“Get off,” he said, switching off the engine.
Aina stepped down and stared at the house in confusion.
“Whose house is this?”
Vino didn’t answer immediately.
He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out a keychain shaped like a motorcycle wheel, and tossed it to her.
“Yours. Starting today, you’re living here.”
Aina’s eyes widened.
She stared at the key in her hand, then at Vino.
“What? Brother, rent near my school is expensive. Where did you get the money?”
“Too many questions. Just go inside and unpack your stuff.”
Slowly, Aina approached the door and inserted the key.
When it opened, the scent of a clean room greeted her.
Inside was a comfortable floor mattress, a small wardrobe, and a simple study desk.
More than enough.
The sense of relief and hope that had died back at the orphanage began to return.
She wouldn’t have to sleep on the streets.
She had a place to stay.
Turning around with shining eyes, she prepared to thank Vino from the bottom of her heart.
“Brother Vino, thank you so much. I really—”
The words died in her throat.
As Vino removed his helmet beneath the glow of a flickering streetlight, Aina noticed something horrifying.
The corner of his mouth was split open, fresh blood still seeping from the wound.
His left cheekbone was bruised dark blue, and a large scrape covered the back of his right hand.
Aina rushed closer, her face turning pale.
“Brother... what happened to your face? Did you get into another fight?”
Vino immediately turned away, trying to hide his injuries.
He wiped the blood from his lip with his jacket sleeve, only smearing it further.
“None of your business. I just fell off my bike at the workshop.”
“You’re lying!”
Aina’s voice rose, tears filling her eyes again.
She knew exactly what those injuries meant.
The strong smell of engine oil.
The scuffed leather jacket.
The bruises.
This wasn’t a workplace accident.
These were wounds from an illegal street race.
The rent for this house.
The new mattress.
Everything in front of her.
It had all been paid for with the risk of Vino’s life on the streets.
Aina tightened her grip around the key until the metal dug painfully into her palm.
The gratitude she had felt moments ago transformed into overwhelming guilt.
On one hand, this house had saved her life.
On the other, it was undeniable proof that in order to support her, Vino had continued walking along the edge of death every single night.
