In the end, everything was resolved peacefully, though many unanswered questions still lingered in Raka and his family's minds.
What exactly had happened between Ustaz Hamdan and Laras in those recurring dreams? However, both Kiai Jaffar and Ustaz Hamdan chose not to reveal everything, leaving the final truth in Allah's hands.
"Boy, do more istighfar. May Allah guide the path you walk," Kiai Jaffar whispered softly into his son's ear when he noticed Ustaz Hamdan stealing glances at Laras.
Father and son then enjoyed a warm conversation with Raka's family. They discussed many things, including the mysterious death of the village shaman in the abandoned house.
"Why was the shaman there in the first place?" Ustaz Hamdan asked, growing more curious about the story of the empty house.
"He followed a deviant sect," Kiai Jaffar replied.
Bu Restu, who had once been involved in such rituals, began sharing what participants were required to do on certain nights. Although she had never joined the rituals in that particular abandoned house, she knew the practices were largely the same.
Finally, a question that had been weighing on Ustaz Hamdan's heart slipped out.
"Who exactly is Zahir? Why does Laras seem so terrified of him?"
The entire living room fell silent. Kiai Jaffar quickly stepped in to prevent the conversation from going further. The white-bearded man did not want to reopen Laras's old wounds — or Raka's.
"I think that's enough for today. Hamdan and I should take our leave. He still has many relatives to visit. Assalamu'alaikum Warahmatullahi Wabarakatuh."
Ustaz Hamdan, slightly startled, quickly followed his father in saying goodbye to everyone. The two then stepped outside, accompanied by their hosts. Moments later, Kiai Jaffar and Ustaz Hamdan rode their respective motorcycles home.
About two kilometers into the journey, Kiai Jaffar signaled his son to stop at a small musala. They performed sunnah prayers, then sat facing each other.
"Abah only wants to tell you a little about Zahir. That name shouldn't have been brought up back there — it could hurt Laras, who was the direct victim, and Raka too. Not to mention Bu Restu, who unknowingly opened the door for that jinn to enter their lives."
From the lips of the sharp-nosed man flowed the horrifying events that the family had endured. Ustaz Hamdan listened intently, occasionally stunned by what Laras and Raka had gone through. Having lived in Turkey for years, he was deeply moved by the heavy trials this newlywed couple had faced because of the seductive jinn.
"It was truly a heavy test for them," Ustaz Hamdan said, shaking his head in admiration.
"Are you still determined to follow the guidance from your dreams?" Kiai Jaffar asked his son, wanting to confirm his resolve.
"InsyaAllah, I still am, Abah. I've performed Istikharah many times, and this is the path I must take."
"Remember — this woman is Raka's wife and has already been claimed by a jinn. Even Abah is still puzzled by this divine guidance. But may Allah soon reveal His wisdom."
"Ameen. Thank you, Abah. Alhamdulillah, you don't think I'm crazy."
They both laughed together. It had been a long time since they shared such a warm moment. Kiai Jaffar patted his son's shoulder and smiled.
"Boy, may you always be a true man who remains obedient to your faith."
"Ameen. Stay healthy, Abah."
"Ameen."
The two men lowered their heads. Suddenly, a strange tremor ran through their chests, and a tingling sensation spread to the tops of their heads. They looked at each other, confused.
"Astaghfirullahal adzim! Did you feel that too, son?"
"Astaghfirullah. Yes, Abah. What was that?"
"Hopefully nothing serious. Maybe our bodies are just not feeling well."
"InsyaAllah. Ameen. Shall we head home, Abah?"
The white-bearded man nodded and slowly tried to stand. But his body suddenly felt weak and powerless, as if his bones had turned to jelly.
"Astaghfirullahal adzim! What's wrong, Abah?" Ustaz Hamdan asked, quickly supporting his father.
"I don't know. Let's just go home."
"What if I take you on my bike? We can leave your motorcycle here and have one of the santri pick it up later."
"That works. Abah suddenly feels very weak."
Ustaz Hamdan helped his father onto the back seat. The strong young man carefully got on in front and called one of the santri to retrieve his father's motorcycle.
The bike moved slowly along the asphalt road to keep Kiai Jaffar stable. Halfway through the journey, they crossed paths with a police patrol car, its siren blaring.
"Let's pull over for a moment. Abah's body is trembling," Kiai Jaffar said, tapping his son's shoulder.
"Alright, Abah. We'll stop under that shady tree up ahead."
A few meters later, the motorcycle stopped in the shade of a large acacia tree. They sat on the bike and watched the passing traffic.
Suddenly, Ustaz Hamdan's eyes widened. From the right side, he saw the same police patrol car they had passed earlier. Inside were Laras and Bu Restu. His gaze met Laras's tear-streaked face. The young woman was sobbing uncontrollably. His heart clenched.
"Innalillahi wa inna ilaihi raji'un! Abah, did you see that?" he asked, pointing at the receding police car.
"A police car. Why, son?"
"Jamila… I mean, Mbak Laras and Bu Restu were inside," Ustaz Hamdan said, his voice filled with panic.
"Innalillahi wa inna ilaihi raji'un! Abah's heart is beating so fast. What's going on? Was Mas Raka with them?"
"No, Abah. I hope they're okay. Ameen."
"Ameen."
They continued their journey home, their minds clouded with worry about Raka's family. Upon reaching the house, they parked the motorcycle and Ustaz Hamdan helped his father to the front porch to rest.
Yet in Ustaz Hamdan's mind and before his eyes, the image of Laras's tearful face kept appearing. He tried to push it away by reciting salawat, but the vision wouldn't leave.
What happened to Jamila?
What happened to Raka?
The young man's heart grew increasingly restless. He wiped his face several times, but the unease refused to fade.
"Abah, I'll go to the mosque for a moment to perform wudu."
"Go ahead, son. InsyaAllah, this is Allah's answer for you."
Hearing his father's words, Ustaz Hamdan stopped in his tracks and turned around with a look of astonishment.
"What do you mean, Abah? The answer to my dreams? Is it true?"
Kiai Jaffar nodded just as his phone began to ring.
"Assalamu'alaikum Warahmatullahi Wabarakatuh," the turbaned man greeted the caller.
He listened intently for a few moments. Tears began to fall from the corners of his eyes.
"Innalillahi wa inna ilaihi raji'un. Wait there! We'll come right away."