Chapter 1: The Weight of Glass
The modern office hummed with a low, sterile frequency, trapping the afternoon light against floor-to-ceiling glass walls that overlooked the sprawling, indifferent skyline of downtown. Inside this transparent cage, the air felt heavy, saturated with unspoken truths and the sharp edge of betrayal. Sophia stood in the center of the room, her long wavy blonde hair catching the cold reflections of the city. She wore a pristine white off-the-shoulder corset top paired with a flowing tiered skirt, cinched at the waist by a heavy metallic chain belt that clinked softly whenever she shifted her weight. Her eyes were rimmed with red, a solitary tear tracing a slow path down her cheek before dropping to the polished concrete floor.
Conny, a middle-aged man impeccably dressed in a tailored grey suit, white shirt, and a meticulously knotted patterned tie, stood mere feet away from her. His chest rose and fell in shallow, restrained breaths, his face a map of sudden, profound aging. Just a few moments ago, the silence had been broken by Sophia’s trembling voice uttering a devastation that cut deeper than any physical blow: “Bapak biarin Bella sakitin aku.” He had let Bella hurt her. The accusation hung in the air like smoke, dense and suffocating.
Conny looked at his daughter, his vision blurring as tears welled in his own eyes, catching the harsh fluorescent office lights. He reached out a hand, his fingers twitching with a desperate urge to bridge the distance, but dropped it back to his side, paralyzed by his own complicity. Across the room, standing near the sleek mahogany filing cabinets, Eleanor watched the scene unfold with chilling composure. Dressed in a sharp cream blazer, a white top, beige trousers, and a tasteful patterned scarf, her hands rested casually in her pockets. She was Conny’s long-time corporate partner and confidante, a woman who rarely showed panic.
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Sensing the paralysis gripping Conny, Eleanor stepped forward, her heels clicking rhythmically against the floor. She looked at the distraught man with steady, unblinking eyes. Her voice, measured and low, cut through the tension in the room. “Tuan Conny, hari ini berat. Nggak usah bahas ini dulu,” she said, reminding him that today was already too heavy a burden to carry this specific conversation.
In the immediate background, a silent medical professional in a crisp white lab coat stood by the door, holding a clipboard, a quiet reminder that this confrontation was happening on the precipice of a medical reality check. Sophia wiped the remaining moisture from her cheek with the back of her hand, her expression hardening just slightly. The glass walls offered no escape, only a reflection of a fractured family standing on the edge of ruin.
