The journey to the next village took half a day. Arlan boarded a fishing boat that took him across a small river to the village. The next village, although larger, had the same quiet and peaceful atmosphere.
Mr. Rahman lived in a simple wooden house on the riverbank. The old man seemed to be repairing a fishing net when Arlan approached him.
"Mr. Rahman?" Arlan asked politely.
The old man turned his head, looking at Arlan with a sharp gaze. "Who are you?"
"I am Arlan, the son of a sailor named Basri," Arlan said.
Pak Rahman was stunned. The name seemed to awaken something in him. "Basri..." he murmured. "I haven't heard that name in a long time."
Arlan explained about his journey and how he had been searching for Salsabila's trail. Hearing Arlan's story, Pak Rahman finally nodded, motioning for Arlan to sit down.
"Your father was a good man, but he carried a heavy burden in his life," Pak Rahman said. "He loved Salsabila, that's true. But there was something he never told anyone."
Arlan waited anxiously.
"Basri never came back not because he didn't want to, but because he was trapped in a huge debt to a merchant in a large port. Our ship sank, as you know, but before that, Basri tried to protect his people by making a deal with the merchant. He sacrificed himself."
Pak Rahman explained that Arlan's father had actually survived the shipwreck, but he had been held for years to pay off a debt that was not his own. When he was finally free, he was sickly and never had the courage to return to Salsabila's village, afraid that he had let her down.
"He regretted it every day," Mr. Rahman continued. "He kept holding Salsabila's photo, but he felt he was not worthy to return."
Hearing this, Arlan's heart felt heavy. His father's story was not only about love, but also about sacrifice and regret.