Lana thought she was just an ordinary teenager.

Sure, she was a little quiet. Unlike the other kids who had fun with their friends, she preferred to be alone. Every time she tried to approach them, her steps grew stiff, as if her heart refused. She didn’t know who she really was, nor did she understand herself.

At home, both her parents were busy working. Her father was a vegetable farmer, while her mother ran a food stall from morning until late at night. They shared responsibilities. After returning from the fields, her father would help her mother, while Lana was told to stay home and study.

Lana studied as her parents wished. At school, she appeared to be one of the smart students. But her quiet nature made her stand out. Other kids thought she was arrogant. The human heart is hard to control—hate for one thing often breeds hate for another. When a boy liked her, they hated her. When she scored perfectly on her tests, they still hated her. When she did nothing at all, the hatred remained. Even when she smiled, they hated her for that, too.

She and the others were still just teenagers in their blue and white uniforms. They didn’t yet have the maturity of adults. Still in need of guidance. Not yet worthy of hating or being hated so cruelly. At that age, people haven’t yet learned that not everyone is the same. That not all hatred is justified. That not all silence is golden, and not all words are kind.

Not every word deserves to be spoken. Not everything hated is truly bad.

One day, Lana, burdened with all the hatred she didn’t understand, was locked in the school toilet. Her clothes were wet and filthy. The air reeked of something foul. Her strength drained by hunger and anxiety. Darkness soon fell. She still remembered the giggles of those who had left her behind.

That night, with the cold seeping in and her stomach growling, she wept with heavy sobs. In the thick darkness and biting chill, a long memory returned to her.

A girl who looked like her. Someone with a different energy. That girl had been strong, even at a younger age. She had many things in life, yet she wasn’t any luckier. She had no one truly worth loving. Only people who wanted to hurt her. When the girl tried to escape reality, she read a novel that featured a strangely familiar character.

Lana.

The character was her.

And that night, she was about to lose her parents in a car accident—caused by the father of the male lead in the novel. Faced with what was to come, Lana stood and shouted desperately for help.

“OPEN UP! OPEN THE DOOR! OPEN IT!!!”

“SECURITY!! SOMEBODY, PLEASE, OPEN THIS DOOR!!”

She screamed until her throat was hoarse, pounding on the door with all her might. She didn’t care that her hands and feet were injured, but the toilet remained locked. Her reason failed her. She tried to climb out, but she wasn’t tall or strong enough to manage it.

“What do I do…?”

Her tears dried. That night became a torment. No matter what she did, the toilet door didn’t open until the next morning. Lana didn’t care about anything else—she dragged herself home, hoping it was all just a dream. That the novel wasn’t real. That this was all just a nightmare.

But her wish wasn’t granted. People were gathered at her house in mourning. Lana, limping into her home, saw her parents lying still with their eyes closed.

“D-Dad… M-Mom…” she whispered in a trembling voice. Shaking, she moved closer, trying to see if they were injured. To check what could still be treated. To ease their pain.

But just as she was about to touch them, someone caught her hand and pulled her into a hug.

The person was crying. Lana didn’t care why. She didn’t care about anything—her parents lay there. Though they’d always been busy, only they had truly loved her.

“No… No, Mom and Dad are fine…”

People looked at her with heavy hearts, seemingly understanding her pain. Someone came closer to comfort her.

“Sweetheart, please be strong. Let your parents go in peace.”

Lana shook her head and tried to break free.

“Please let me go. I want to see my parents.”

“Shhh… be strong. Let them rest now.”

“I understand, so please let me go!”

“Dear, at least clean yourself up. It’s your final moment to honor your parents.”

Hearing that, Lana went silent. She no longer tried to approach her parents. She stood and walked unsteadily to her room. Final moment to honor them. Those words struck her hard. They had never been a family of luxury. Never a family that was always together. But even so, compared to the life she saw in her dreams, the parents she had now were far more precious.

Her childhood in this world had been simple, but it was happy. Filled with love. Even if they eventually became busy with work, she knew their love had never disappeared.

Her sore legs gave out. She would have fallen if not for a pair of hands that caught her—a boy around her age.

“Are you okay?” His voice was full of concern.

Lana stayed silent, listening to him. Tears still ran down her face. She struggled to stand again.

“Let me help.”

She didn’t answer. She didn’t refuse. She didn’t know this boy, but that wasn’t on her mind right now. In the novel world from her dream, her character had only just arrived home after the funeral.

Realizing that, she strengthened her resolve. In her room, she looked at herself in the mirror. Cleaned up. Changed clothes. Straightened herself. Though tears still welled up now and then, she wiped them away quickly. She was her parents’ only daughter. She had to stand strong—at least for today.

When she returned to the mourners, no one stopped her from approaching her parents again. A few people stood nearby.

“May I… see my mom and dad one last time?”

“Of course, dear. You have every right.”

Lana raised her hands. She had promised herself she’d be strong, but the moment she saw her father’s face, eyes closed in peace, her eyes burned again. She tilted her head back to stop the tears, but it was useless. She couldn’t miss her last chance. The people around her wept along with her final goodbye.

“She’s just a child,” whispered a neighbor.

“Poor girl. I heard she has no other family.”

“My God… how could the world be so cruel to someone so young?”

Some remained silent—like the Atmadja family and their son, who stood near Lana. They were the ones in the car that had hit her parents. Overcome with guilt and pity, they had handled everything needed for the funeral.

Seeing Lana now, all alone, broken, and grieving—they were filled with regret. Ratri, the wife of Julian Atmadja, was especially heartbroken with guilt. Why had they stolen the happiness of such an innocent, young girl?