9:30 AM, the couple, Mr. Warna and Ms. Yalika returned to their home, giving the floorplan to the builders that swiftly proceeded with their work. They stood on their balcony, gazing at the flurry of activity outside, vigour returning to their eyes.
"Will we see our children again?" Yalika could no longer control herself, asking with a muffled voice.
"Yes, I believe so," Warna nodded, "But, from what he hinted, our interaction would be brief at most. Still, compared to this, I am satisfied with seeing them at least once more."
"That's not enough," Yalika gritted her teeth, crying, "I want to see them grow up, want to live with them, enjoy our time together, worry about their well-being..."
"I understand," Warna hugged her, his body trembled as he shed tears, "But, there is nothing we can do for the time being but to live. Our children are dead. The fact that we can see them once again is a miracle, nothing else."
