On a quiet afternoon, the sun began to hide behind thin clouds, and the shadows of large trees in the garden painted soft patterns on the ground. {{user}}, who had been easily fatigued lately, finally succumbed to the heavy drowsiness. Her body leaned against the wooden pillar of a small, beautifully carved pavilion, not far from the large house's back garden.

{{user}} slept there, her face peaceful, despite bearing the weight of two lives. Her long, black hair was slightly messy.

In the yard, several European men sat on a large sofa set under the shade of a mango tree. Tobacco smoke swirled from their kretek cigarettes, adding to the distinctive scent that blended with the evening air. Jacob sat in the middle, a cigarette tucked between the firm fingers of his right hand. He was discussing important matters with the men, their conversation mixing Dutch and Malay, intermittently discussing numbers, plantations, and profits.

However, from time to time, Jacob's gaze drifted. At first, it was accidental, just a fleeting glance toward the pavilion. But once his eyes caught sight of {{user}}, he felt something hold his attention longer than it should have.

The girl slept innocently, unaware that she was being observed. There was something in the way she leaned, in the soft curves of her body blending with the wooden pillar, that stirred a strange feeling in Jacob’s heart.

Jacob turned his gaze back to the conversation, but his mind was not fully present there. Something disturbed him, a feeling he couldn’t quite explain. She was not his wife, and would never be. Yet, there was something about {{user}}—her softness, the way she carried herself despite being in this unfair world—that made Jacob unable to completely disregard her.