A few days after his meeting with Ayla, Evan sat in front of his laptop, opening the investment site he had trusted for years.
He had done his research—what types of investments could be made in a minor's name without needing their physical presence. He settled on a long-term education mutual fund.
"If Ayla won't accept anything directly, I can still help Raka from a distance."
Carefully, Evan filled in the required data. Owner's name: Raka Ardiansyah. Beneficiary: Raka himself. All returns would go into an account under Raka's name once he turned eighteen.
After double-checking every detail, Evan completed the initial transaction with a substantial amount.
This wasn't just money—it was a guarantee that his son would have a better future, without having to rely on either Ayla or himself.
When the transaction confirmation arrived in his email, Evan allowed himself a small smile.
"At the very least, I've done something."
Evan took a deep breath before typing a message to Ayla.
This time, he wanted to choose his words carefully.
Evan: Ayla, I'm sending a document for Raka. I had it delivered to your office—it should arrive soon. Please don't reject it. It's not for you, it's for him. I just want to make sure that even if I'm no longer around one day, he'll still have something for his future.
He stared at his phone screen.
If I'm no longer around?
That wasn't a lie. With the curse still looming over him, he truly didn't know if he'd still be here next year—in the most literal sense.
A few minutes later, the double check mark appeared. Ayla had read the message.
But she didn't reply.
At her office, Ayla stared at the brown envelope on her desk, unsettled.
Her heart thudded, a sense of unease creeping in.
Evan wasn't the kind of man who spoke about "not being around."
Was he... sick?
Her hands trembled slightly as she opened the envelope. Inside were documents—mutual fund papers under Raka's name.
The amount was substantial. Enough to cover schooling through university. Maybe more.
Ayla bit her lip, her chest tightening.
If this was merely Evan's way of fulfilling his responsibility as a father...
Then why did it feel like a will?
Ayla sat still at her desk, eyes locked on the envelope she had just received.
The sender's name was clear—Evan Nathaniel William.
Her heart was still full of questions after reading his earlier message:
"I just want to make sure that even if I'm no longer around, he'll still have something for his future."
Her stomach twisted. What did Evan mean by "if I'm no longer around"?
Was he sick? Something serious?
She shook the thought away.
With slightly shaking hands, she pulled out the contents.
A stack of mutual fund documents, neatly arranged.
Then she froze.
Raka Hanafiah Putra.
That was Raka's legal name. The name she'd registered at birth.
No "William" attached.
No trace of Evan's lineage.
She had made that choice deliberately. For Ayla, Evan had long been absent from their lives.
But now, seeing this document…
The amount was staggering.
If he merely wanted to help with tuition, this was more than enough.
If managed wisely, it could carry Raka through college.
Ayla bit her lower lip.
Why would Evan do this?
Why did it feel like he was saying goodbye?
Was he truly sick?
She reached for her phone, wanting to reply—but her fingers hovered uncertainly above the screen.
What should she ask?
"Are you sick?"
"Why are you talking like someone who's about to die?"
Too blunt.
But the longer she stared at the document, the heavier her chest felt.
Evan had taken responsibility this time, but still... Ayla couldn't accept this so easily.
She didn't want to be indebted to him again.
Yet one question lingered in her mind:
If Evan really is sick... shouldn't I know?
After battling the storm in her mind, Ayla exhaled deeply.
Her phone still clutched in her hand, though she hadn't typed or called.
She felt she needed answers first.
If she was wrong—if Evan was perfectly fine—she didn't want to seem like she cared too much.
But if something really was wrong...
She gripped the documents tightly.
Her feelings were conflicted.
Part of her wanted to reject the money. She didn't need Evan to raise Raka.
But the other part... was afraid.
If Evan truly is sick, could I really bring myself to refuse this?
Raka needed his father.
All his life, Ayla had made sure her son never lacked love.
But what if, one day, he lost his chance to truly know the man who had given him life?
She closed her eyes, trying to calm herself.
Then, with sudden resolve, she grabbed her jacket and bag.
She couldn't just sit here and wonder.
She needed to see Evan. Now.
Ayla finally decided to find out for herself.
She couldn't sit still, drowning in her own speculation.
Once she made sure Raka was asleep, she grabbed her car keys and drove to the William family home.
When she arrived, she hesitated for a moment at the front door.
But before she could knock, it opened.
Evan's mother stood there, slightly surprised.
"Ayla?"
Ayla swallowed. "Sorry for coming this late, Tante. But I need to talk."
Evan's mother nodded and let her in.
They sat in the living room. Ayla pulled out the mutual fund documents.
"This is from Evan. He sent it suddenly for Raka. I just want to know... Is he okay?"
Evan's mother frowned. "Of course. Why wouldn't he be?"
Ayla stared at her, uneasy. "There's nothing odd? He's not sick?"
She looked even more confused. "No. As far as I know, he's perfectly healthy. Ayla, what's going on?"
Ayla bit her lip. "This just… feels like a goodbye. Like he's hiding something."
Evan's mother was silent for a moment, then offered a faint smile.
"Sad that you're only realizing it now. Evan hides a lot."
Ayla stiffened. "What do you mean?"
She sighed. "He never tells anyone when he's struggling. Since he was young, he always handled things on his own. Even we—his own parents—never truly knew what was happening in his life."
Ayla looked at her with questioning eyes, but Evan's mother only gave a bittersweet smile.
"If you really want to know what's going on, maybe it's time you ask Evan directly."
Ayla clutched the document tightly.
This conversation didn't give her clear answers—
But it did confirm one thing:
Evan was hiding something.
Evan's mother stared at the document longer than expected. Her brows furrowed as her expression shifted—from confused to suspicious.
"He gave this to you without saying anything?" she asked softly.
Ayla nodded. "Just a short message. Asked me not to reject it."
His mother bit her lip, scanning the document as if searching for a hidden clue.
"This… doesn't feel like Evan."
"It doesn't, right?" Ayla caught the hint of worry in her voice.
His mother shook her head slowly. "Evan has changed since the accident, yes—but he's not the type to suddenly do something this big without a clear reason. If he wants to help, he usually finds… less direct ways. He hates seeming too caring."
Ayla said nothing.
She knew that, too.
Evan wasn't the type to be generous or sentimental without a reason.
His mother looked at her, eyes narrowing. "Ayla, are you sure he's okay?"
Ayla's breath hitched. "What do you mean?"
She gripped the document tightly, almost as if she could draw the truth from it.
"You're not the only one who feels this is strange. Now I'm starting to wonder too… What if Evan is sick—but he's hiding it from everyone?"
Ayla stiffened. "But… if it's something serious, wouldn't there be signs?"
His mother shook her head. "Evan is stubborn. If he really is sick, he'd hide it… until the very end."
Silence fell between them.
Both women stared at each other—each with the same unspoken fear.
Ayla clenched her hands. "Then what do we do now?"
Evan's mother took a deep breath and handed the document back.
"We find out. Before it's too late."