"Deandra Atma Wijaya.  You are accused of being the mastermind behind the murder of your own parents.  That night on the twelfth of November, you came home from a friend's house.  Got into a fight with your parents.  You then entered your father's room without permission and took a firearm from the bedroom drawer.  Then shoot your mother in the chest three times.  Your father tried to stop you by trying to grab the gun, but ended up getting two shots in the head and chest.  Then you decide to call the police out of panic and fear.  With so much evidence against you, I hereby demand Fifteen Years in prison for murder.” The prosecutor closed the blue folder in his hand.  Then rolled his eyes at a young man sitting blankly on the suspect's chair.  The heavy voice full of accusations that was loudly heard when the Prosecutor explained all the allegations and accusations against him could be heard clearly. 

It had been a long time since Dean had felt so tense when he sat across from someone.  Even in the past when he was seated with lawyers, before judges and prosecutors, as well as witnesses who did not side with him.  Deandra did not feel this much pressure. “You finished the book overnight.  So I can guess, you're a little out of work huh?”  the chirps of the stranger across the table broke the silence between them. Dean snorted and then smiled.  Being between offended and sad because what the man said could not be denied by him. “I work from home.  So you could say I really don't have much work to do."  Deandra said without removing the smile on his face. The brief conversation that had created between them, seemed to have managed to make Dean a little more relaxed.  The way he sit was not as tense as before. “Work from home?  What kind of work?&rdqu

None of this is a joke.  Even if it's a joke, then it doesn't feel funny at all.  Deandra kept asking in his mind.  Who made this terrible game, and why should he be stuck in it? "Ivan?"  Dean spoke in a barely audible voice, a surprised look directed straight at the young man standing in front of him. "Devan.  This one’s Ivan."  said the young man objected, then pointing to another young man right beside him. "Are you drunk or what?  Is it possible to identify one's your own friend wrong?"  Ivan pouted as he folded his arms in front of his chest. For a moment, Dean was silent.  He continued to stare at the faces of two young men around seventeen years old in front of him. There was no way he would forget them.  Even though the past ten years have made it difficult to distinguish the names of the two non-identical twins. Ivan and Devan.  Nothing

It's not wrong to be complacent.  It had been ten years since Dean had last lunch together.  The smell of sweat from the high school uniform, indeed mixed with the canteen mother's fried noodles, which was only topped with chicory. But that can't make anyone lose their appetite.  Everyone likes to jostle just to buy unsatisfying food for one to five thousand rupiah."Dean want some meatballs?  Here are the meatballs!” Dean raised an eyebrow because it was Ivan who suddenly put a meatball into his bowl, without even listening to his response first. "Van, eat.  If you give it all to Dean, when will you be full."  Devan across the table squinted sharply. Responding to his brother's attitude, Ivan put on a sullen face.  While Dean just chuckled, laughing at his two friends who didn't change. From the beginning, it was very difficult for Ivan to have lunch with them.  On

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed through the hospital hall.  Splitting the crowd, the twins rushed towards the indicated space. Seeing a Devan in a hurry is a rare sight. But it certainly isn't any rarer than seeing a gold medal winner in the Interschool Swimming Olympics lying in hospital from drowning.  Now almost all the children of the swimming club gathered just to see this rare event. "Deandra!  Where's Dean?!  How is he?" Ivan shouted excitedly.  His gaze swept around the infirmary which was filled with people.  Then it stopped right at Deandra who was lying unconscious on the bed.  On Dean's side, Amel sat faithfully waiting for his consciousness. "Not aware yet."  Said one of Deandra's club friends. Without responding, Ivan stepped past the few students and headed straight for the side of the bed.  He patted Amel's shoulder to calm her down.  Even though i