Halimah entered the house. It was Asr prayer time that afternoon, and Halimah asked Syarif to close the shop, signaling that the line of customers had ended. Halimah no longer wanted to scoop up her son’s tears with that spoon. It was Saturday; tomorrow, Adam would surely go to Kenanga Lake, so let him enjoy his day to the fullest, and today, let him rest.

But what does “rest” even mean for Adam? Adam was simply asleep; though his tears flowed slowly, his eyes blinked as usual. There was no movement—he looked just like a sick person.

Yet Halimah understood. In truth, Adam could hear and feel everything around him. But it was the pain and his profound love that kept him from rising.

Halimah entered her son’s room, sat beside Adam, and stroked his hair, which had grown long and was beginning to cover his ears. Halimah prayed for Adam while continuing to stroke his hair; Adam moved his head slightly, a sign that he liked it.

“Wake up, Adam… this is the wrong way to deal with your failed love. You must wake up, son; Naura has left you and is with someone else now,” Halimah said, sobbing uncontrollably. Of course, no mother could bear to see her son suffering like this because his love had been betrayed.

“Adam is here for Naura, Mom...”

Adam’s soft voice only made his mother’s sobs feel even more heart-wrenching; both mother and son’s tears flowed freely. Adam, who was actually powerless to resist the strength of his love for Naura, only made his mother sad. He was truly helpless against himself.

Someone entered quietly and stood leaning against the door, watching the scene; his own tears fell one by one. It was Syarif.

“Forgive Adam, Mom… Adam… can only cause you trouble for the rest of his life…” Now, Adam’s words were unlike his usual self; he sobbed, feeling helpless and guilty toward his mother. In fact, Adam slowly raised his right hand, lifting it higher and higher, and struck the pillow next to his head. He struck it again, though very weakly and helplessly, and his tears flowed even more.

Syarif couldn’t bear to watch the scene; he too began to sob uncontrollably as he slumped down, leaning against the door. His heart ached, seeing his best friend and a mother suffering because of that love problem.

Syarif, who still had parents, could feel what Adam and Halimah were going through. All this time, he had been allowed to keep helping Adam’s family; in fact, he managed all of Halimah and Adam’s money, yet he never took a single penny for himself.

Adam and Halimah—he considered them his family. Inseparable, no different—they were family.

“Assalamu’alaikum!” A greeting was heard from outside, sounding like a firm man’s voice. Syarif was startled, and Mrs. Halimah wiped her tears.

“Let me go see who it is, Ma’am,” Syarif hurried over, wiping his own tears. Before he even reached the front door of Adam’s house, the greeting rang out again, loud and clear.

“Assalamu’alaikum!”

Click! Squeak!

Syarif opened the door; he was a bit annoyed—hadn’t it already been closed for the day? Regardless of what happened, people should understand Adam’s true condition.

“Isn’t it...” Syarif’s words caught in his throat and trailed off slowly. A group had arrived—three burly men and a woman standing slightly off-center. Then, behind them, a woman in luxurious attire and a woman with long black hair sat in a wheelchair, shaking her head from side to side.

“Is Adam home?” The voice of the burly man named Fandi was firm yet polite, his right hand pointing toward the house.

“Adam is here, and he’s always in his room. So… what’s with this group? Isn’t it the case that once the door is closed, no one asks Adam for help anymore?”

“But… this is very important to us. We’re bringing someone important to…”

“I already told you there’s no more service!”

“Who’s there, Syarif?” Halimah’s voice, coming from Adam’s room as she headed toward the front door, cut Syarif off. Fandi immediately understood, having already done some investigating.

“Ma’am... please, just hear us out for a moment. We’ve come from far away, and we’ll pay whatever you ask. Please...,”

“Enough, sir!” Halimah cut off Fandi’s pleading; Syarif fell silent as well, everyone listening intently to what the woman would say.

“We don’t need money! I need my son, Adam, to be healed from his illness,” Halimah’s voice choked slightly, her tears flowing slowly. And everyone fell silent—including Sarah, who witnessed it—only Diandra heard the words, yet she felt the sorrow of the woman speaking.

“We only help anyone who comes asking for my son’s tears. We don’t offer medical treatment, but people come to us. Adam also asked that we give his tears if others need them. But… he is the one who is truly sick, and he… bears all the pain of those who come to him.”

Everything was silent, only the soft, hoarse sobs of Halimah could still be heard faintly.

“Please, Mother… give us a chance, and we won’t trouble you or your son,” the middle-aged woman standing near the woman in the wheelchair pleaded with Halimah.

The atmosphere was silent for a moment.

“All right, you wait here. I’ll ask Adam for permission to see if he’s willing to receive guests this time.”

Halimah went back inside and headed toward Adam’s room. Syarif stayed behind to watch over the guests. Syarif hadn’t dared to let the guests into the house yet because Mrs. Halimah hadn’t told him to.

Suddenly, a sense of curiosity arose in Diandra’s heart. She asked Syarif, who was still standing at the door.

“Are you a friend of Adam’s?”

Syarif was startled by the soft, melodious voice; he turned to look at the woman in the wheelchair. Her face was so graceful, like a goddess or a fairy, yet her eyes were unfocused, seeming to gaze into space.

“Y-Yes, Miss, I am a good friend of Adam’s. I’m the one who always serves the guests who come,” Syarif said, a bit nervously, blurting out the answer without realizing it. That beautiful face had cast a spell on him, and he’d forgotten himself, answering so impulsively.

Diandra smiled upon hearing that, “Is it true he’s sick from love and was betrayed by his lover?” Diandra was very curious about the young man’s love story, and the people around them remained silent, not daring to interrupt.

Syarif seemed resigned and answered, “Adam has been sick, and his soul has been tormented for over two years since his lover left him to marry someone else. Since then, he’s just been lying here like this every day.”

Diandra smiled again, but Halimah had already arrived and came out to meet them. They waited to hear what Halimah would say to them; Halimah looked at everyone, including Diandra, who was sitting in a wheelchair.

“I’ve spoken to Adam, and he nodded. So, please come in.”

The group was invited inside, but only Diandra, her mother, and the woman accompanying Diandra and Fandi went in, while the two bodyguards and Syarif remained outside the house; the door was closed because they feared more people might come asking Adam for help.

The four guests were in the living room; Fandi helped push Diandra’s wheelchair.

“Please wait a moment; I’ll get you some water...”

“Wait a moment, Mother...,” Diandra’s soft voice stopped Halimah, who was about to go to her son’s room.

“May I speak with Adam for a moment?”

The question was very strange to Halimah; no one who came for treatment ever expected to meet Adam. But this beautiful woman wanted to speak, even though she appeared blind and paralyzed in her legs.

However, Halimah was eventually moved by Diandra’s request. She was a sweet girl who had faced such trials since childhood. What a tragic fate she had; perhaps God had sent her to serve as a lesson that the misfortune befalling Adam was nothing compared to hers.

So..., even though she wouldn’t be cured, Halimah wanted to give her best to that girl.