The sun had already slipped behind the trees when Siti pedaled home from the orphanage. The electric bicycle hummed softly beneath her, its lights glowing faintly in the dim evening. Her body was tired from playing with the children all day, but her heart was light, as it always was after leaving Rumah Kasih Sayang.
As she turned into the gate of her house, she noticed something unusual. A small brown package sat neatly on the front step, wrapped in plastic with her name written in bold letters: SITI SUHAILI.
She froze for a moment, blinking in disbelief. Hardly anyone ever sent her anything. Slowly, she set down her bag, picked up the package, and carried it inside.
Her hands trembled as she peeled away the tape. Inside, cushioned with bubble wrap, lay a sleek mobile phone—a brand-new one, far nicer than anything she had ever owned. Alongside it was a smaller envelope.
Siti tore it open, her eyes darting across the neat handwriting she instantly recognized as her mother's.
> "Siti, we hope this phone will make things easier for you. You can contact us anytime now. The SIM card has been registered already. Please take care of yourself. Love, Mama and Papa."
Her throat tightened as she set the letter down. She turned the phone over in her hands, its smooth glass reflecting her wide eyes.
A phone. A way to call her parents. A way for them to call her.
But also… another reminder that they were far away, still not coming home.
Siti sat on the couch in the living room, staring at the glowing screen after she switched it on. The wallpaper was plain blue, the battery full. There were no photos, no apps yet—just a blank canvas waiting for her touch.
For a long while, she sat in silence, wondering whether she should dial her parents immediately or wait. Part of her wanted to hear their voices, to ask why they still hadn't returned. But another part of her was afraid of what she might hear—that they would tell her to keep being patient, to keep waiting.
In the end, she sighed and placed the phone carefully on the table. She wasn't ready. Not yet.
---
The next morning, Siti rode to the orphanage as usual, the phone tucked safely inside her bag. She couldn't concentrate as much as usual, her mind buzzing with thoughts of the package.
After breakfast with the children, she found Safura in the office, sorting through some paperwork.
"Kak Safura," Siti said quietly, stepping closer.
Safura looked up and smiled. "Good morning, Siti. You look like you have something on your mind."
Siti bit her lip, then slowly pulled out the box from her bag. "Yesterday… when I got home, this came for me. From my parents."
Safura raised her eyebrows. "Oh? What is it?"
Siti placed the box on the desk and opened it, revealing the phone.
"A phone," Safura said softly, lifting it carefully. She turned it over in her hand, examining it with surprise. "This is new. Expensive, even."
Siti nodded. "They sent a letter too. They said now I can call them whenever I want."
Safura looked at her, her expression gentle. "And how do you feel about that?"
Siti hesitated. "I… I don't know. I was happy at first. But then… it made me sad too. Because if they really cared, why didn't they just come home? Why give me a phone instead?"
Her voice cracked slightly at the last words.
Safura reached across the desk and squeezed Siti's hand. "Sayang, sometimes parents show love in different ways. Maybe they think giving you this phone will make up for their absence. It doesn't mean they don't love you—but I understand why it hurts."
Siti lowered her head. "Do you think… if I call them, they'll tell me when they're coming back?"
"I don't know," Safura admitted honestly. "But at least now, you don't have to feel so far away from them. You have a way to reach them whenever you're ready."
---
Siti sat in silence for a while, staring at the phone on the table. The children's laughter echoed from the yard outside, reminding her of the family she had already found here.
"Kak Safura," she asked suddenly, "will you help me? I don't know how to use all the things on this phone."
Safura chuckled softly. "Of course. After work today, we'll sit together. I'll teach you how to save numbers, how to use WhatsApp, and how to make a video call if you want. Don't worry—you'll be a pro in no time."
A small smile crept across Siti's lips. "Thank you, Kak Safura."
"Anytime," Safura said warmly.
---
That evening, after her duties were done, Safura sat with Siti in the common room. She showed her how to slide through menus, how to type messages, and how to take photos. The children crowded around, fascinated.
"Take our picture, Kak Siti!" Aina begged, pulling Amir close and making a silly face.
Siti laughed and snapped her first photo—a blurry but beautiful image of children smiling, eyes bright with joy. She set it as her wallpaper, feeling her heart swell.
Maybe the phone wasn't just a reminder of her parents' absence. Maybe it could also become a tool to capture the love she had here, in this unexpected family.
---
That night, back at home, Siti lay in bed holding the phone close. She still hadn't called her parents. But she didn't feel as heavy anymore. She knew she would, one day, when she was ready.
For now, she opened the gallery and looked at the picture of the children, their faces full of laughter. She smiled softly, whispering to herself:
"This phone isn't just from Mama and Papa. It's also for me to keep my new family close."
And with that thought, she finally drifted off to sleep, the glow of the phone fading into the quiet night.