"Zaira, are you going to the fields again?" shouted a girl with braided hair outside the house.

Zaira immediately left the house and met her best friend. She shook her head in disbelief because her best friend always shouted wherever she was.

"Can't you lower your voice? Why do you have to scream like an orangutan anyway? This is a village, not a forest, Naura," said Zaira, who was still confused.

Naura, the veiled woman's best friend, just laughed with pleasure hearing Zaira's annoyance.

They have been friends for almost seventeen years, starting at age one. Now they are eight teen years old.

"Haha, yes, beautiful Miss. So… today to the fields?" asked Naura again.

Zaira nodded, "Of course. My mother seems to want sweet potato leaves."

"Oh, what a pity. Even though I wanted to take you to see the stage." Naura's shoulders dropped, lethargic for a moment.

"What stage?"

"Seriously, you don't know? Art celebration stage. Oh God, where have you been? Why don't you know?" Naura screamed hysterically.

Zaira could only cover her ears. Naura's shrill voice deafened her ears. She had to think about throwing Naura away if this was the case.

"I'm busy. I trade in the market and take care of the farm field," said Zaira quickly.

Naruto winced at that. Indeed, their lives are very, very different. She is also friends with Zaira because when Zaira was one year old, she came with her mother to work at Naura's parents' house. Zaira becomes a reliable friend of Naura's parents.

Zaira's life is so bitter. Her father had gone somewhere and disappeared without a word. And her mother raised Zaira with incredible difficulty. Of course, everything is very difficult for Zaira and her mother.

"Okay, looks like I can't bother you right now. I'll be waiting for you at the village hall tonight, okay?"

Naruto turned around and waved her hand. While Zaira agreed, she also couldn't wait to see the art stage held at the village hall once a year.

She hastily took a sickle, a sling cloth, and two large sacks to shelter for agricultural products. Immediately she walked towards the top of a mountain two kilometers away, where her field was.

Her village is indeed in the middle of a mountain, and it is difficult for her to go to the foot of the hill if there is no vehicle she can ride.

"Where are you going?" Someone stopped his motorbike and asked the woman he recognized.

Zaira paused for a moment, then smiled at the man who was her friend.

"To the fields. Where are you going, Han?"

"To the fields too, come on, just come along."

"Can you?"

"Yes, you can. Can I have the heart to see a beautiful woman walk this far?" joked the man with tanned skin from the hot sun.

Zaira finally sat behind Farhan, her friend. She knew that Farhan had a crush on her, but she pretended to ignore it.

When Zaira got off the motorbike, Farhan looked around him. "You alone? Usually with your mother, right?" he asked.

"Yes, my mother is sick. So I'm alone."

Farhan looked around again. "Do you want me to wait for you? It's dangerous to be alone here."

Zaira is surprised to hear that. She is getting increasingly uncomfortable with the attention that Farhan gives her.

She shook her head quickly and smiled a little. The smile that spread on her thin and pink lips made the heartbeat of the man who had just given her a ride even faster.

"No need. Don't you want to go to the field too? I'm used to being alone."

"But …."

"It's okay, and it's safe here. The proof until now I'm fine, right?" Zaira grabbed it quickly. She wasn't used to being alone in the fields, but she was also reluctant to ask Farhan to accompany her.

She knew very well that Farhan was making a living.

Farhan could not force herself, in the end, just nodded. "Okay, if there's anything, you dash," said Farhan, who finally started his motorbike and left Zaira alone.

Zaira immediately tried to cut the grass. Pile them up and tie them into a big roll. Immediately she also took the yam leaves, remembering her mother wanted to eat sweet potato leaves.

Without knowing that a man kept stalking her while talking through his cell phone.

"She's already here. You should be patient, and she's not going anywhere," he said to someone on the phone.

His eyes continued to follow the movement of Zaira, who was agile in cutting the sweet potato leaves. Even his eyes didn't move, and his throat was dry when he saw how beautiful Zaira was in the veil covering her hair.

"Just send me the picture first, at least if there is one. Alphonso will judge the price."

"Yes, later, after I manage to bring it, of course, I will take a picture. Well, you just wait to hear from me."

Click.

Immediately the man with a shaved head and tattoos almost all over his face ended the call without hearing the answer of the person he was calling.

Again he lurks. He immediately walked closer, so quietly that Zaira didn't even notice that a dangerous man was targeting her.

"Hmph! Hmppp!" Zaira was wide-eyed, her hands trying to claw at the arm of someone who had covered her mouth with a strange-scented cloth, too fragrant to make her head dizzy instantly.

She lost her breath while her feet continued to hit the ground with all her might to escape.

"Hmph! Hmph!!" Her hands tried to pinch or hit as best she could, though her strength seemed nothing compared to the man.

Her eyes stared blurrily ahead, tears welling up in her eyes. 'Help me, God! Help me!' Her mind kept rambling on, unable to believe what she was experiencing.

Her consciousness seemed to have been mixed with something she couldn't predict. Her breathing began to weaken, losing the muscle strength to take in oxygen. Gradually everything was getting blurry. Even her body had no energy.

Her breath was so tight everything started to turn black.

In that instant, she fainted from the strong fragrance in the cloth blocking her nose. Her body was lying weakly in the car seat.

The bald man grinned happily at sight. "Finally, I got a superior seed," he cheered without holding back.

He accidentally took out his smartphone, took a picture of Zaira's unconscious face, and sent it to someone.

He also called someone who had spoken to him. "How?" he asked.

"...."

Again. His mouth was grinning happily when he got an answer that satisfied him. He's going to get rich!

"Good. You'd a better sleep a little longer," he whispered. He quickly drove his car, heading to the nearest airport.

No one is aware of the loss of Zaira, the veiled girl who was always cheerful and faithful in accompanying her mother.

Zaira was still unconscious, even when she was taken overseas to the auction that would change her life.