Residual Flavour
The name Amar began to be called

"Can't you wait outside? We have guests." Widya is not afraid to return the sharp gaze of Agas and Rudi.

"There's a very important business that we have to talk about. Can your guest get out first." Rudi said it with great pressure. While Agas lowered his head when he realized Deva was looking at him full of probing.

"You guys wait outside first. As important as your business-it seems we already know. Sorry, my guest is more important. So please, just give us a second chance to get everything done" Widya said so clearly and straightforwardly.

"Wid ...," Rudi like to give an extraordinary affirmation when mentioning the name of the woman.

"Please Mr. Rud, appreciate our decision." Widya remained consistent with her wishes.

Meanwhile, the generous breath seemed increasingly disorganized. The hand of the old man in Deva's grasp felt so cold. Deva tried rubbing the back of his generous hand to get warm again. Then he turned his head back sharply towards Agas, Rudi, and also Widya.

"Whatever your business is, can we leave it aside for a moment? This father was ill, unworthy to argue in front of him. As important as it is, where can be discussed when someone is in this sick condition," said Deva.

The breath of Generosity grew heavier, but with the movement of his eyes, he told Deva to approach him. Widya rushed to her husband from the other side, intending to pair her breathing apparatus. However, Dermawan rejected it by pushing his wife's weak hand.

"Dev ..," said Dermawan.

"Yes, sir." Deva replied no less. Widya gestured for Deva to bring her body closer to Donghawan.

The tense look was obvious to Agas and Rudi. Jaws are both hardened-tooth up and down docked. Both of their hands clenched perfectly to hold back the anger and fear that raged within the chest.

"Mr just rest. If it's better, I promise to come again" whispered Deva.

Generosity shook weakly. His breathing was really heavy. It even seems to stop at the throat. The noisy sound of air collected in the esophagus disturbs the eardrum to cause a taste of poignancy.

"Istighfar, sir. Put all worldly affairs. Don't think of anything. Istighfar," said Deva, he felt the hand of the Benefactor again groping for his hand. He also held that weak hand.

Maybe before he had never met the figure on the bed. But Deva was still human, the pain and sadness that occurred before his eyes, certainly could not be ignored. All the guesses and questions that had crossed a lot, hit him temporarily.

"Ma-ma-af right, Ba--" the stammered words of the Benefactor again paused.

"Do not say anything other than asking Allah for forgiveness. Don't break up Istighfar." Deva also brought his mouth closer to the ear of Donghawan. He led the man to recite "Astaghfirullahaladzim" many times.

Widya could not speak anymore. His body felt stiff like a mannequin. If killing was sinless and not wrong in the eyes of the law, she would very much want to throw a knife right in the chest of two people who stood as if they were worried about her husband. Agas and Rudi in Widya's eyes are no longer worthy of being called human. Both of them were just a lump of flesh that happened to be lifeless, but had no conscience.

"You are the most cursed humans we have met. May your karma be more painful than we have felt. Every tear that Deva drops, you have to pay with a more wrenching cry" Widya swore inwardly.

The woman shook her head weakly, then said softly. "No, I've told you, whatever the condition, he no longer wants to be taken to the hospital. This torment is nothing much Deva. Not how. May you who see this, open the door of his heart. No mistake can be perfectly closed. We can run and hide the evil that we do from the world. But not from our hearts nor from God's justice."

Agas and Rudi seemed to not care about Widya's insinuations. Both are not interested in chiming in or giving another reaction. Even cruelly, in their hearts they hoped that Mercy would end this drama with a last breath.

Deva gently stroked Dermawan's cheeks which were clean yet very pale. Not feeling a clear circle dripping from the corner of his eye. "Sir, reminds me of my father. But baby, I can't be on my side when he's sick. Don't stop fighting. There is the Father's wife, and there are the Father's children who always accompany. So many things to be grateful for."

Widya's tears shed more and more, until her shoulders rose and fell irregularly. He pressed a button that was connected to the entire room. Giving a signal for Deborah to come to the room where Dermawan is located.

A clear thread dripped softly from the eyes of the Benefactor. If he had the strength at this moment, he would have been eager to get up and kneel at the feet of Deva - a living child bearing the moral burden of being the son of a corruptor. All the consequences of being generous with his other friends.

"Father must be excited. Istighfar, may Allah grant healing. If you feel there is a world business to be resolved, you must not stop fighting. Let's do it first, "persuade Deva.

Deborah appeared alone. Although there is a God, of course he did not invite his former lover to enter too deep to know what happened.

"Pa ...," Deborah passed through Agas and Rudi without permission. Seeing his father in an unstable condition for the umpteenth time-makes his heart must return to sincere learning.

"We go to the hospital, yes, pa," Deborah stood beside Deva.

"Please, sister." Deva intends to exchange places with Debora. However, the woman refused with a strong headband.

"You're here. Papa is waiting for you." Deborah's voice sounded very shaky.

Widya approached her son. He grabbed Deborah's shoulder, and carried it into his arms. "Maybe it's time, Deb. We have to be sincere. We certainly can. Deva alone could be this strong until now. What we feel, there is nothing compared to what your father has done" Widya whispered softly.

Sayup, Deva's ears heard what Widya said. Instantly, he straightened his body. "Actually, what is your relationship with me? Why do I have to be here all of a sudden?"

"Ba-ba-pak, come on." The benefactor again tried to speak with great difficulty. Every word spoken even requires a very long pause.

"A-a-amr ...." Dermawan's stammered voice called Papa Deva's name.

Rudi and Agas who had just stood in place, were getting distracted. Both of them stepped forward to the side of the empty bed, precisely at the foot of Donghawan.

"Don't say much, Wan. Stop being stubborn. What you need now is not anyone, but a doctor," said Agas-impressed just stale.

Deva stared one by one at the people in the room sharply. "What exactly happened? Why is your name called?"