La Hora
LH - EPILOGUE

The clock shows at 6pm.

For a moment I was silent, after hearing Shica's story. Don't know, I have to how. My emotions are mixed. For 3 years knowing him, I knew nothing about him. I felt guilty, because I couldn't help him who was in trouble.

I really didn't think, if the problems that had befallen him back then were really complicated and dangerous. Out of nowhere, I suddenly wanted to hug her tightly.

"Shii." I try not to cry.

I felt Shica's hand gently return my embrace.

__"Mommy?"___ Alderani who saw us hugging closer. He hugged us. Shica laughed while hugging him as well.

I saw Aldevaro and Galvin looking at each other with puzzled expressions. They ran towards us and joined us in our arms.

Suddenly my laughter and Shica's laughter exploded, due to the innocent behavior of our children who knew nothing.

It turns out that after marrying Raihan, Shica wrote her story in various versions. Same with Raihan.

"Meishy\, this is crazy\, but I really want my work to come out. I know\, my script is messy and far from perfect." Shica laughed while giving me an __flashdisk__.

I accepted. "I'll read it first. You're going home the day after, can't you just back down?"

"No, Raihan will take me and the children back to Paris. If you're having trouble with my script, you can call my number. This time I won't change numbers again." Shica laughs.

I chuckle. "Actually, I still want you to be here, this opens the script. I can read the script all night, even though there are 200 chapters. But, I miss my best friend."

It's a shame. I'm not the kind of person who likes to express my heart, even though I'm a sensitive woman with feelings.

Shica laughed off. "You've changed a lot, yeah. Now you're so shy."

I grumbled in annoyance, "You mean, I used to have no shame?"

Shica shook her head while shaking her hand. "No, no, I didn't say that."

I laugh.

We saw the kids playing. The three of them were building a palace out of Galvin's toy block.

"Deva, Dera, let's go home, son."

Unfortunately, both of his children did not want to go home. They get ready to cry, when Shica shows a code of coercion.

I laughed a little at him. "Let them play here. They're still having fun. You don't go home either. What if we had dinner together?"

Shica seemed to think. "True, huh? Your cooking is so good. I haven't felt it for a long time."

Later that night, I served Shica's assisted dinner.

"You staying at a hotel?" My toot. Shica nodded her head.

"Wouldn't Raihan be angry, because you're home late?" My toot.

Shica shook her head. "No, I told him to come here, if he's done with his job."

"Good, we can all eat together."

Aldevaro says, "Mommy, Deva hungry. Deva wants to eat."

The innocent words of his eldest son Shica made me laugh, as did his mother.

"He was shameless, like his father." Shica still held back the rest of her laughter.

"It's okay, his name is also a child."

I heard footsteps entering the kitchen. My husband has already come home.

"Well, are there guests?" Ask.

"Yes, it's Shica." I disfigured.

"Shya? Mahali Shica?" Ask my husband to make sure.

Shica. "My name is Rastarani Abdurrachman now. But, since you're my friends, it doesn't matter if you call me by my little name."

Husband laughs. "Then where's Raihan?"

"She's coming soon, you want to play basketball with her again?" Guru Shica's.

Me and Rangga laughed.

Rangga replied, "Yes, there happened to be a basketball court behind the house that I deliberately made for my son."

A few minutes later, Raihan came with a chaotic expression.

"Daddy!" Alderani hugged his father. Raihan was holding that tiny body.

"You guys are so mean, why build a house in a place so far? I'm looking for your house and I'm lost, luckily someone around knows your publishing company, Meishy."

Rangga laughing. "Just come already angry, let's eat together."

We sat down and prayed according to each other's beliefs. Then we ate the food with great pleasure.

While we ate, we talked a little.

"Rangga, are you a teacher?" Shica asked with a fuss.

Rangga laughing. "Yes." Yeah."

Husband shakes. "No, I'm a Physics teacher."

"I thought you were going to be a gym teacher" Raihan said. Rangga said, "I'm too old in that field."

We laughed.

After dinner, Raihan and Rangga invited the children to play basketball behind the house.

Actually, Shica and I banned them, because it's night.

But, Rangga reasoned, if behind the house a lot of lights, make the small field become brightly lit. It's okay they play basketball.

Me and Shica sat watching them. Every now and then we laugh to see the two fathers teaching the children to throw the ball to __ring__.

"They're so happy, doesn't their stomach hurt?" Ask Shica.

I replied, "They won't be able to sleep, if they move too much after eating."

After feeling tired, they choose to end the game of basketball night. Then Shica and Raihan came home.

Rangga and I drove them to the front.

Sure enough, it was 10, Rangga could not sleep. He has a stomach and backache.

"I told you, don't play basketball." I was massaging around his back and waist.

"Thank you, dear." Rangga was asleep.

I smiled when I saw my husband and son who were asleep so soundly.

Suddenly I remembered Shica's __flashdisk__ containing the script.

I got up and put it on my laptop. When I opened it, there were two stories. Shica wrote it well. He made the story into several versions.

Raihan wrote two stories, while Shica wrote one. I read Raihan's first which only contains about 30-40 chapters. Because Shica's story contains 62 chapters, so I read a little first.

When you finish reading Raihan's novel, it feels too strange if it is published. I think Raihan wrote it with a lot of feeling. I switched to Shica's novel.

Shica's novel was titled**Love My Love Also**. I'm curious about the contents. I read it until the end\, without realizing the clock has shown at 2 am. There may be 2000-3800 words.

I yawned slowly. While looking at Rangga and Galvin who were still asleep.

Shica's writing is fun to read. I love the story that explains the lives of teenagers. Unfortunately, this is not in accordance with reality.

There are probably only 15% of the true stories in this novel. The rest is fiction.

I want to complete this script. It might be 100 chapters.

The next day, Shica came again with the children. I asked him directly about my opinion on the script.

"I believe in you. But, I hope you don't put your real name in the book." That's what he said.

It was time for the Abdurrachman family to return to Paris. We're taking them to the airport.

For several months I repaired, completed, and changed the name of the story character. I even made it into several versions.

The original version of Shica's work was titled**Love My Love is also**. I worked out most of the contents and changed the title to **Through Your Badness**

The other version is **Don't Leave Me*\, probably the longest one\, as it contains 155 chapters\, including Prologue and Epilogue.

One more original version of the whole which is the true story of Shica's life. I gave him the title*Darkside**. Here the characters are Regar and Raihan. The novel contains 70 chapters.

After that, I contacted Shica and told her about the script that I had fixed.

Shica greeted him with pleasure. Inversely with Raihan.

Through __video call__\, Raihan grumbled at me.

"Why in Don't Leave Me did you make me die? That's pathetic."

I can't bear to not laugh. "I'm so happy to get my storyline in trouble."

"Turn me again" said Raihan. Shica who was sitting next to him also laughed loosely.

"I'll turn you on in different versions. What do you think Shica?" My toot.

"I like the one whose title is**Through Your Badness**."

After getting answers, I published the book. Many people liked that story. Especially the happy ending. Shica is with Raihan in happiness and lives in Paris with her two children. Yes, it does fit with reality.

There's something important I want to say. In all those stories, I did not include the character of Rama. Because Mr. Mahali has lost it and considers that Rama never existed in this world. He is considered to be someone who is not from the Mahali family.

To be honest I was more __respect__ to Brother Rama.

So I made my last work out of this true story. It contains a story with a complete character. There's Rama in my new story. This is one sign of my respect for Rama.

I gave it the title La Hora, which means clock in Spanish.

I consider this story special, because here is Rama. When the world does not acknowledge its existence, La Hora makes it present and comes back to life.

Thank you, Rama. You are an irreplaceable brother.

La Hora

-◈◈ The End ◈◈-

Ucu Irna Marhamah's