SABOTAGE

Grandfather Har fixed Diana with a thoughtful gaze, his curiosity evident as he finally broke the silence.

"Well then, my dear, why don't you tell me about this uncle of yours?" His tone was warm, yet beneath it lingered an unmistakable air of intrigue.

For a brief moment, Diana felt the weight of their attention.

Grandfather Har, Mr Ridho, Mrs Saras, and Havi, all of them watching her, waiting for her to speak.

Their eyes held a quiet patience, though she sensed an underlying eagerness to hear what she had to say.

She drew a slow, measured breath, gathering her thoughts before she began.

"Very well," she said at last, her voice calm and composed. "I shall tell you what I know."

After a brief pause, Diana began to speak again, her tone now edged with quiet gravity.

"My uncle's name is Haryo Wibowo. He owns a company called Nictex Usaha Jaya Ltd, though most people simply refer to it as Nujaya Ltd."

"It's a textile factory, established only a few years ago, yet in an astonishingly short span of time, it has flourished into a thriving enterprise."

Mr Ridho, who had been listening with unwavering attention, raised his brows in mild astonishment.

"So… your uncle owns Nujaya Ltd?" he asked, his voice tinged with disbelief, as though the connection between the vast factory and the young woman before him were too improbable to grasp.

Diana inclined her head in quiet affirmation, a faint but unmistakable trace of pride softening her expression.

"Yes, Uncle. My Uncle Haryo built the factory from nothing. Now, it stands as one of the largest textile manufacturers in the region," she said, her words measured yet resolute.

A subtle shift settled over the room, a sense that something far larger loomed just beyond the edges of their conversation, waiting patiently to be revealed.

"I have heard, too, that there is a factory on the border between Loban and Wlahar Villages. Would that be the one called Nujaya Ltd, dear Diana?" inquired Mrs Saras, her gaze resting on Diana with quiet curiosity.

"It is, Aunt," Diana confirmed with a slow, deliberate nod. "That is Nujaya Ltd."

Grandfather Har stroked his chin, his expression thoughtful, "It is no small thing to have a factory in our region," he mused, his voice carrying the weight of years gone by. "It will surely ease the burden of unemployment in these villages."

Diana allowed herself a faint smile, a quiet sense of pride stirring within her, "Precisely, Grandfather Har," she replied, her tone warm yet assured.

"My uncle is committed to the welfare of the local people. He employs only those who hail from Loban and Wlahar Villages," she explained, her voice clear, as though each word carried a promise.

A hush settled over the room, a silence not of emptiness, but of hope newly kindled.

The factory's presence was more than a symbol of progress.

It was a doorway to a future once thought unattainable, offering the villagers not merely work, but the dignity and possibility that came with it.

Grandfather Har inclined his head thoughtfully, his voice carrying a gentle but persistent curiosity.

"Do go on with your story, young lady. This old man is quite eager to hear the rest," he said, gesturing towards himself with a touch of playful vanity.

Mr Ridho, Mrs Saras, and Havi chuckled softly at his remark, their quiet laughter warming the room, while Diana allowed herself a faint smile, feeling the atmosphere grow a little lighter.

"Very well, I shall continue," she said, drawing a deep breath to steady herself before resuming her tale.

"For several months now, my uncle's factory has been facing a shortage of raw materials, particularly gutta-percha," she explained, her voice gaining a quiet gravity that hinted at the weight of the matter.

"Uncle Haryo had already made every effort to contact the principal suppliers, yet curiously, they had all chosen to sever ties. Not a single one was willing to supply percha resin to Nujaya Ltd," Diana went on, her voice carrying a hint of both bewilderment and frustration.

She paused briefly, drawing a measured breath before continuing, "My uncle has since explored other avenues, reaching out to smaller suppliers and even local rubber farmers, but, inexplicably, they all refuse to cooperate."

"It is as though they have come to some unspoken agreement to turn their backs on us. Surely, that strikes you as peculiar?" Her eyes, sharp with quiet concern, moved from one face to the next, searching for understanding.

Mr Ridho's brow furrowed, his features settling into a thoughtful frown.

There was an air of quiet tension about him, as though some unseen thread of the story troubled him deeply.

"To such an extent?" he mused, his voice low and edged with scepticism. "One might almost think there was more to this than mere coincidence."

Diana inclined her head in a slow, deliberate nod.

"Indeed, Uncle Ridho," she replied, her tone steady. "This is no ordinary misfortune, but it feels orchestrated. And whoever is behind it clearly wants Nujaya Ltd to fail."

Mrs Saras regarded Diana with a searching gaze before speaking again, her voice softer but no less insistent.

"Do you know why the suppliers and rubber farmers would behave in such a manner towards you, Diana?"

Diana released a slow, measured breath, as though the weight of the truth pressed against her chest.

"Yes, Aunt," she replied, her tone edged with quiet resolve. "It is sabotage," she declared, the word hanging heavy in the air.

"Sabotage?!" Grandfather Har, Mr Ridho, and Aunt Saras echoed in unison, their shock palpable, as if the very notion defied belief.

Havi, however, did not share their surprise. He remained silent, his expression thoughtful rather than startled.

This revelation, after all, was no stranger to him.

Four days earlier, amidst the thunderous rush of the Wira waterfall, Diana had spoken of it.

There, beneath the veil of falling water, her voice, usually steady, had trembled ever so slightly as she recounted the troubling events surrounding her uncle's factory.

She had confided her fears to him in that secluded place, where the roar of the water drowned out the weight of her concerns.

And now, as those same words surfaced before the others, their significance seemed to deepen.

The air in the room grew heavier, the gravity of the situation settling upon them all.

Havi observed Diana in silence, his gaze intent and unwavering, as if he might discern some hidden truth beneath her composed exterior.

He sensed there was more, more than she had yet revealed, and he waited, patient and still, for her to continue.

Diana inclined her head gently, her voice calm but measured as she spoke, "Yes, Grandfather, Uncle, and Aunt," she said, addressing Grandfather Har, Mr Ridho, and Aunt Saras with quiet composure.

"This sabotage originates from Nujaya Ltd's competitor, a company called Hextex Ltd. Its owner is a man by the name of Yunus Adirjo," she continued, her tone steady despite the unease curling in her chest.

The reaction was immediate.

"What?!" Grandfather Har's voice rang out like a thunderclap, shattering the fragile calm that had settled over the room.

"What did you say his name was?!" His hands trembled slightly as he pushed himself upright, his usually warm gaze now cold and distant.

The sudden outburst caught everyone off guard.

Mr Ridho's brows furrowed in confusion, while Aunt Saras instinctively clutched the edge of her shawl.

Havi, though outwardly calm, felt a flicker of unease stir within him.

As for Diana, she could only stare, bewildered by the transformation in the old man's demeanour.

A silence, heavy and expectant, fell upon them, a silence in which unspoken questions hung thick in the air.

Why did the mention of Yunus Adirjo provoke such a violent reaction?

What long-buried truth had her words disturbed?

For a fleeting moment, it seemed as though time itself hesitated, hovering on the brink of a revelation that none of them could yet grasp.

"Yunus Adirjo, Grandfather Har," Diana repeated softly, her voice steady despite the heavy stillness that had settled over Havi's home.

Grandfather Har exhaled a long, deliberate breath, the sound cutting through the silence like a distant echo of something long past.

His expression grew pensive, the lines on his face deepening as if the name had awakened a memory he had sought to bury.

"Does this Yunus Adirjo… have a wife named Hanun Mulyani?" he asked at last, his tone low, yet heavy with an urgency that belied his outward composure.

For a moment, he said nothing more, but there was a tension in the way his fingers curled against the arm of the chair, a tension that spoke of something unresolved.

Then, as if unwilling to trust mere coincidence, he continued, "Or is this… merely someone else, sharing the same name?"

Rising slowly from his seat, his frame seemed to stiffen, as though bracing itself against the weight of some unseen revelation.

Diana hesitated, her hands clasped together as if to steady herself.

She had never thought to ask Yunus about his personal affairs, indeed, such details had always seemed unimportant.

Yet now, under the old man's piercing gaze, her lack of knowledge felt almost like a failing.

"I… I'm afraid I do not know, Grandfather," she admitted quietly, her voice tinged with the slightest note of regret.

"I only know him by name, anything beyond that, his family or his past, is a mystery to me."

A heavy silence fell upon the room, but it was no longer the quiet of mere contemplation.

It was charged with the weight of something unspoken, an invisible thread connecting the past to the present.

Inwardly, Grandfather Har's thoughts stirred with restless unease.

If this truly is the same Yunus Adirjo… then everything may soon come to light, he mused, though the words remained locked behind his lips.

His gaze drifted towards the window, where the last light of day had begun to fade into the hush of twilight.

Yet his mind was not on the present, it was caught somewhere else, in a time long gone but never truly forgotten.

His fingers flexed into a fist at his side, and in that simple gesture lay a lifetime of memories.

Memories that refused to be laid to rest.