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Putri's steps felt heavy as she walked out through the campus gate that late afternoon.
The sun had already begun to sink in the west, painting streaks of orange across the sky. Her long hair, left untied, swayed gently in the breeze and partly covered her tired face. Still, she straightened her back, forcing strength into every step. Behind that weariness was a quiet flame: the determination to return home.
In front of a small house, whose paint was slowly peeling off from the walls, a woman sat waiting in a wheelchair. Her face was lined with deep wrinkles, but the warmth of her smile never faded. The moment she spotted Putri approaching, her lips stretched into a wide grin.
"You're finally home, my child…" Her voice was hoarse, but overflowing with affection.
Putri quickly dropped her bag to the ground and crouched beside the wheelchair. "Yes, Mom. I missed you so much," she whispered, grasping her mother's frail hands and pressing them to her lips. The warmth was still there, yet weaker—thinner each day.
They went inside together. The old sofa in the living room creaked loudly the moment Putri sat down. The cracked tiles on the floor and the leaking spots on the roof told the story of a house that had grown old with time. Yet for Putri, no flaw could erase its meaning. This was still home—the place where her mother's love guarded her with simple strength.
On the dining table, food was already laid out: rice, fried tofu and tempeh, sambal with a strong kick of shrimp paste, and a bowl of clear kangkung soup. The aroma of such modest dishes carried with it a nostalgia that wrapped Putri's chest with warmth. It felt like she was returning to childhood every time she smelled it.
"Eat slowly, dear. I've been cooking since noon," her mother said as she reached for the plate and began to scoop rice for her daughter.
Putri smiled, but her eyes burned. "Thank you, Mom. Every time I come home and see you waiting, I'm… happy." Her voice trembled, and without permission, tears slid down her cheeks.
Her mother frowned in confusion. "What's the matter, Putri? You sound like you're carrying such a heavy burden."
Putri hurriedly brushed her tears away and forced a small laugh. "No, Mom, I'm just… overwhelmed. I missed you. That's all. Let's eat first, okay?" She curved her lips into a smile, fragile yet gentle.
But her heart was restless. The sight of her mother in that wheelchair was a constant reminder. Years ago, the once-strong woman had lost her legs in a tragic accident—a reckless driver who hit her, then fled without looking back. Since then, the weight of survival fell on Putri's young shoulders. She was still a student, but outside lectures, she took whatever work she could find, patching the family's needs together while paying for her mother's medicine.
The scholarship was the only thread keeping her dream alive. She knew that if she ever lost it, all her father's wishes would crumble. A dream that once echoed in his voice, steady and proud: "One day, I want to see you in a white doctor's coat, Putri…"
The thought made her chest tighten. Memories surged, uninvited.
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She had been only eight years old. It should have been an ordinary afternoon—but it became the turning point of her life.
She was walking with her father down a quiet street when three large dogs appeared from an alley. Their eyes gleamed, tongues dripping with heavy panting. Their growls made her tiny body stiffen with fear.
"Dad…" she whispered, clutching his hand.
Her father tightened his grip. "Don't be afraid. Hold on to me."
One dog lunged, but a swift kick from her father sent it sprawling. He didn't hesitate—he scooped Putri into his arms and ran. Panic blurred their path, and they found themselves trapped in a dead-end alley. The barks grew louder, closer, merciless.
Her father stood firm, placing Putri behind him. His body was a shield. The dogs attacked in turns, claws scraping, teeth tearing. Putri sobbed into his back, her tiny hands clutching his shirt. Each time his body jerked from a strike, her cries grew louder.
"Don't look, Putri… close your eyes…" His voice was still tender, though his breath was ragged.
Until finally his body collapsed, still wrapping around her protectively. His breathing weakened. Blood spread across the ground. His final gaze—filled with love, resignation, and sacrifice—burned itself into her memory.
The barking stopped. Villagers arrived with sticks and blades, driving the animals away. But it was too late.
Putri screamed, hysterical, as she realized the warm embrace of her father was no longer alive. She had seen, with her very eyes, how the man she loved most gave his life for her.
From that day onward, she could never look at a dog without trembling. The trauma lived inside her, carved too deep to fade.
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"Putri?" Her mother's voice snapped her out of the past. "You're daydreaming again."
She forced a crooked smile. "Sorry, Mom. I was just… thinking."
After the meal, Putri cleaned the table and then sat quietly in her small bedroom. A photo of her father hung on the wall—smiling warmly in a simple white shirt. Each glance at that picture tore her heart open again.
"Don't worry, Dad," she whispered. "I'll make it. I'll become a doctor, just like you wanted."
But her own heart whispered back with cruel doubt: "What if you fail? What if the scholarship is revoked? What if all of their sacrifices turn into nothing?"
Her hands covered her face. The pressure of life pressed against her chest like a weight she could not shake off.
Just then, barking rang out from outside the house. Loud. Fierce. Right at the front gate.
Putri froze. Her heartbeat spiked, coldness crawling over her skin. Trembling, she pulled the curtain aside and peeked through the window.
A large black dog stood there. Its eyes gleamed, staring directly at the house, as if waiting.
Her breath caught. Childhood memories clawed their way back, sharp and merciless.
And at that very moment—
her phone rang, loud and shrill.
On the screen, the caller ID glowed: "University Academic Office."
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Cliffhanger
Putri was trapped between two fears: the shadow of her past, returning in the form of a dog's menacing gaze at her gate… and the unknown future, ringing from the university's call—one that could change everything about her life.
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