Inside the quiet, cold guidance counselor's office, the atmosphere felt heavier than the air from the AC. Oma sat tensely next to Opa, while Nathan leaned against the wall, silent but attentive. The counselor opened a thin folder containing the chronology of events, then looked at them with a professional yet concerned expression.
"Kezia attacked her friend, sir, ma'am," the counselor said, his voice calm but firm. "Not a classmate, her classroom is three grades apart. But Kezia went to that room herself and immediately assaulted the student without any provocation."
Opa squinted. "Immediately assaulted? You mean, hit?"
The counselor nodded slowly. "Yes, sir. Hands empty, but still physical violence. We've reviewed the corridor CCTV footage, and the child did appear shocked when approached. We are preparing an official report for the school administration."
Oma interjected softly, "Then… why did Kezia go that far?"
"That's the question we're trying to answer as well, ma'am," the counselor replied with a sigh. "We've tried to ask her calmly, but Kezia only said, 'I don't want to talk, I don't regret it.' She refuses to speak further."
Opa muttered under his breath, half frustrated, "Kezia is as stubborn as her father…"
The counselor closed the folder. "We don't want to rush into disciplinary action before hearing explanations from both sides. But since Kezia herself refuses to speak, we ask for the family's cooperation."
Nathan exchanged a brief glance with Oma. Something stirred in his mind, a very strong intuition about what might have happened. But he held himself back, waiting for the right moment.
Kezia sat in the corner of the room, leaning against a gray plastic chair with her arms folded across her chest. Her face was sulky, lips pouted, eyes staring straight ahead, trying to appear calm, but the fire behind her gaze was unmistakable.
Opa walked closer, drawing a long breath, then spoke in a firmer tone while still trying to stay patient,
"Why, Kezia? Answer Opa's question!"
Kezia stayed silent for a few seconds, then snorted. "I hit him because he insulted me. His mouth needed to be taught a lesson!"
Opa folded his hands and leaned slightly to meet Kezia's eye level. "What did he say?"
Kezia turned slowly, looking at Opa with eyes starting to water but still defiant.
"He said I'm illegitimate." The room froze instantly.
"He said I don't have a proper father. That I'm the result of an accident. He said it to his friends, and they all laughed together."
Her voice began to tremble.
"I held it in, Opa. But when he said it again this afternoon, I couldn't take it. I had to teach him a lesson."
Nathan, standing in the corner, closed his eyes for a moment, his emotions in turmoil. Opa and Oma exchanged glances, their faces silent, unsure what to say.
---
The guidance counselor, who had been standing by the door, finally spoke softly,
"I'm sorry, sir, ma'am. We only just learned the reason. The student Kezia hit hasn't admitted saying that. But if it's true… this counts as a personal insult."
Opa exhaled and then sat beside Kezia, gently patting her knee.
"Kezia… Opa understands that you're angry. I'd be angry too if someone insulted my granddaughter. But fighting isn't the way to handle it. You understand, right?"
Kezia didn't answer. She lowered her head, jaw still tight, her hands clutching her school skirt.
"I'm tired, Opa," she muttered.
"Tired of people acting like they know everything. Like I'm some disgrace."
Oma rubbed Kezia's back softly.
"Sweetheart… you are not a disgrace. You are a loved child. Don't let what others say make you forget that."
Nathan stepped forward slowly, standing beside Kezia's chair.
"If someone calls you illegitimate, that's not your fault. Their fault, because they're stupid and cruel."
He hesitated for a moment, then continued,
"I promise, from today, I won't let you face this alone."
Kezia looked at Nathan. For the first time since entering the room, her expression softened slightly. But her lips remained pressed together in silence.
Opa turned to the counselor.
"How should we resolve this, sir?"
The guidance counselor hesitated.
"If Kezia can apologize, and the other party is willing to make peace, we won't escalate this to suspension. But if not… it could be treated as a serious rule violation."
Oma hugged Kezia.
"Apologizing doesn't mean you're wrong, sweetheart. But it's also for your own good."
Kezia remained silent for a long moment, then nodded slowly.
"I want to apologize. But only to the teacher. To that student… not yet. I'm not ready."
The teacher nodded formally, "Alright. We will arrange a meeting between Kezia and her family with the student involved, as well as that student's parents. We hope this matter can be resolved amicably."
Opa glanced at Kezia for a moment, then back to the teacher.
"If that child really said something inappropriate, I hope the school gives a fair warning too, not just to my granddaughter."
"Of course, sir. We will be impartial. But we need to hear both sides," the teacher replied.
Nathan, who had been silent until now, suddenly spoke up, "May I join the meeting as well? I'm her older brother."
The teacher paused for a moment, then nodded. "You may. As long as you don't make the situation worse."
Oma stood, adjusting her handbag. "We're ready anytime, sir. Please let us know when the schedule is confirmed."
"Very well, ma'am. We will contact you as soon as possible."
Kezia kept her head down, her expression still sullen, but her eyes seemed calmer. Under the table, Nathan gently patted his sister's shoulder.
"It's okay. We'll face this together."
---
The teacher turned to Kezia.
"Kezia, before the meeting, we ask that you write a brief chronology of the incident from your point of view. You can submit it tomorrow."
Kezia nodded lazily. "Okay, sir…"
Meanwhile, Oma took Kezia's arm.
"Let's go home. Then you can shower, eat properly, and get some rest. The day after tomorrow, you need to answer their questions without getting emotional."
In the hallway toward the parking lot, Opa walked alongside Nathan.
"Kezia is stubborn, but she wouldn't get angry unless provoked."
Nathan nodded slowly. "She said the kid insulted her, Opa."
"Insulted how?"
"Didn't have time to explain, but from her expression, it wasn't just ordinary words."
Oma, overhearing the conversation, murmured softly, "Could it be related to Maria's past?"
Nathan turned quickly to her. "What do you mean, Oma…?"
She hurriedly shook her head. "Not here. It's not appropriate to talk about it in public."
Nathan exhaled deeply. His mind felt suddenly crowded. Mikael Sebastian's name, the unanswered WhatsApp chat, the old ID card, and now, Kezia called illegitimate?
"So I'm not the only one living with secrets," Nathan thought, watching the small figure of his sister trudging along, guided by Oma.
That afternoon, the guidance counselor's office felt like a small courtroom. The hot Jakarta air seeped through the partially open windows, but it wasn't that which made everyone sweat. The tension in the room was the real cause.
On the right-hand chair sat Maya, a white bandage covering her temple and a faint scratch on her cheek. Next to her, her mother fidgeted, occasionally glancing at Kezia and her family.
When the teacher introduced the newly arrived guests, Maya's mother gasped.
"Reverend?" she exclaimed, disbelief written all over her face. "So… this child is…"
Opa nodded calmly. "My granddaughter. This is my wife, and this is Nathan, Kezia's older brother."
The teacher cleared his throat. "Maya, did you really call Kezia illegitimate?"
Maya stayed silent, eyes downcast, hands nervously twisting the edge of her shirt. After a few seconds, she whispered, "I… I just heard it from my mom. She said Kezia's mom was pregnant before she got married…"
Maya's mother squeezed her eyes shut, her face flushed, whether from anger or embarrassment, no one could tell.
Opa exhaled slowly, restraining the emotion rising in his chest. The teacher fixed his gaze on Maya and said,
"You heard it from someone else, even your mother, but you didn't see it yourself. When Kezia's mom was pregnant, maybe you weren't even born yet."
Maya froze.
"Whether it's true or not," the teacher continued, his voice firm but nonjudgmental, "we have no right to judge others, especially with harsh words. Words can hurt deeper than hands ever could."